


Friends Forever

by NullBubby



Category: Kirby (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Friendship, Gen, Gijinka, How Do I Tag, Possession, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23027137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NullBubby/pseuds/NullBubby
Summary: The Kirby crew is here for school! Bandana Dee's the new kid, but he quickly makes some friends and is ready to have a good time.Except just about everything possible goes wrong.
Relationships: Bandana Waddle Dee & Kirby, Bandana Waddle Dee & Kirby & Marx, Kirby & Mark | Marx
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	1. First Day Craze

_Was it... here?_

Bandana Dee had just arrived at school and was searching for his class. Being the first day of his 5th grade year, he was definitely feeling nervous about all of the work to come, and more importantly the fact of moving up to 6th grade not too much later. At the very least, there was still a whole year until then, but it would fly by before he knew it.

By the time he had finally found it, the bell rang, and all the other kids ran up to their classes, talking to their friends. He had moved away over the summer, so he didn’t have any friends yet. Without anything else to do, he decided to lean against the wall and wait for the teacher to arrive.

A pink haired boy with a matching pink jacket and red shoes walked up just in front of the door. Bandana Dee looked him over a few times, obviously wondering why the boy had chosen this attire. Eventually, they noticed him staring and happily skipped over, giving a wave.

“Hi! What’s your name?” They were so loud and energetic in their voice that it almost hurt his ears at the distance between them.

He looked somewhat confused seeing as they got straight to their point. “H-hey. My name’s Bandana Dee.” For some reason, he felt slight unease in talking to them.

“Cool! My name’s Kirby! All my friends moved away over the summer, so I don’t know anyone here, but maybe we can have some fun together!”

“O...kay. Sounds great.” He looked to the door, now open with everyone entering. “I think that’s our cue to enter the class.”

“Aww... Can we talk later? At recess maybe? Meet me at the basketball court closest to the field.” The boy didn’t even wait for an answer and walked inside. Bandana Dee followed close behind.

Being the first day, everyone was given the choice of where they wanted to sit. As all of the kids started filling up the seats, Bandana Dee quickly claimed one at an empty table of four near the back of the room. When the last of the kids finally trickled in, only a few spots remained. Kirby walked up and sat just next to him, giving a smile.

A dark haired boy walked up, sitting himself down across from them. He wore a slightly darker leather jacket, grey pants, and grey shoes. Without as much as a slight nod towards them, he let them be. An extra tall kid came up and took the last seat next to the dark boy, chuckling to himself. The thickest sweater anyone could have ever seen was placed on his body, as well as a beanie, despite still being summer. He gave the two across from him a wink, then turned around to face the teacher.

The teacher introduced herself as Paintra and immediately picked up a clipboard on her desk for role.

“Adeleine?” A girl wearing a green dress and red beret raised her hand, cheerfully saying, “Here!”

“Bandana Dee?” He raised his hand, but nothing more.

He wasn’t paying attention to the names for the most part, but eventually when Kirby was called, and his joyful “Here!” snapped him back to reality.

“Marx?” A fairly short boy with a jester hat at the other side of the room raised his hand. “Here!” he called playfully.

Only after seeing his unusual headwear did the teacher notice the abundance of hats being worn. “Everyone, can you take off your hats, please? Thank you.” With that, she continued with the names.

Bandana Dee was lost in thought for quite a while longer. Finally losing his thought process, he blinked his eyes as the last of the kids were called.

“Susanna?” A pink haired girl with a white long-sleeved shirt and grey pants raised her hand, calmly saying, “Here.”

“Whispy?” One of the taller kids with a green afro raised his hand. Next to him sat a near identical boy, except with more colorful hair.

“Zan?” A blonde girl in the corner raised her hand, keeping a straight face. Beside her sat two nearly identical girls, save for their hair colors.

“And that’s everyone.” Paintra cleared her throat. “Welcome, class.” Just after, the loudspeaker turned on.

“Hello, hello? Testing.” The principal had always been known as a cool type of guy, despite literally having the name Nightmare. “Is this thing on? Welcome, everyone, to your first day of school! We have quite a few new students this year, but please, let it be known that you’re all welcome here. Perhaps some of you can make the best of friends with them. Where was I going with this again?” A few seconds of silence came through, then quite a bit of laughter from all of the classes. “Oh, that’s right. I wish you all to have the best year you can possibly have, especially you 5th graders. This is your last year here, so make it count! Today will be an easy day, so no homework for most of you. Be good boys and girls today, or you will be one of the unlucky few to have work tonight, and that’s no fun. Anyways, I’ll be seeing you all later!”

Everyone started talking after the announcements had finished.

The big kid leaned in close to Kirby. “You ever wonder how some of these kids got their names?”

“Alright now, settle down.” A few seconds later, the class was silent. “Thank you. Welcome, everyone! In this class—”

Most of the kids, Bandana Dee included, zoned out past the greeting. Resting his head on his desk, he stared at the clock on the wall, waiting for recess to come.

“Everyone understand?” The class gave a dull confirmation. _Wait, what?_ “You may start now.” People started getting up and out of their seats and walking around. Frantically trying to remember what she had said, Bandana Dee got up as well. Kirby faced towards him as he got up.

“Can you be my partner for this?” Kirby asked.

“I don’t even know what we’re doing,” he responded.

“Oh, we’re just doing basic introductions. What’s your name, and how old are you. Stuff like that.”

“Okay.” They stood staring at the ground awkwardly for a second.

“So where are you from?” Kirby asked.

“I’m from—”

“Alright, that should have been enough time to make your introductions. Please take your seats.”

“What? That wasn’t nearly enough time!” Kirby sat down.

After everyone had taken their seats, Paintra walked to the center of the class. “For the rest of the time until recess, we’ll be playing some games, alright?” A cheer erupted. “However, we still have work to get done afterwards.” Some kids groaned. “Now who’s ready to have a bit of fun?”

* * *

The bell finally rang, signaling recess. Most of the class practically trampled each other to be the first out the door. Bandana Dee was the last one out. Looking out onto the blacktop, he searched for the court Kirby had asked to meet him at.

“Hey!”

Bandana Dee turned around to see him standing next to one of the hoops.

“What’s up?” Bandana Dee asked, walking toward him.

“Uh, how do you start these conversations? You wanna be friends?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Kirby bounced happily. “Oh boy! I hope we can become the bestest of the bestest friends this year!”

“Heh, yeah.” Bandana Dee’s attention was caught by a small crowd not too far away. “What’s going on over there?” he said, motioning towards it.

“I dunno. Let’s go see.”

Behind all of the bunches of kids was Marx, who had been rallying as many of them as he could for a story.

“I saw it with my own two eyes,” he started. “Big, blue... swirling circle thingy. And out came this big black clear ball! It crashed into the ground and broke and this guy with some red jacket or whatever just lay there on the floor. And with him was like a blue egg or something. I would’ve spent the time to investigate, of course, but I had to get to school, so I couldn’t.”

“How can we tell you’re not making this up?” one of the audience members asked.

“When have I ever done something like that before?” he rebutted.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe every single time you’ve gathered us up for one of your tales?”

“Absolute nonsense! You guys have to believe me!” Marx noticed Kirby in the crowd. “Hey you there! Pink boy! You believe me, don’t you?”

He started backing up slightly. “Well, uh...”

“See? Even they don’t think it’s real. Come on guys, let’s get out of here.” The crowd quickly disassembled, leaving only Bandana Dee, Kirby, and Marx still standing there.

“W-wait! You guys can’t leave now!” Marx called out after some of them, but it was no use. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”

“Sorry! I didn’t know what I was supposed to do!” Kirby held his hands up in front of his face.

Marx sighed. “Well, that’s in the past now. You look like a pretty cool type of guy. Wanna make an... alliance? If you know what I mean.”

“Isn’t that just being friends?”

“No! It’s completely different!”

“Okay, sure.” He walked up for a high five.

Marx returned the gesture and walked up to Bandana Dee. “Hey, you’ve been quiet all this time. Who’re you?”

“I’m Bandana Dee,” he said nervously.

“Oh, that’s a real creative name. I bet it’s because of that bandana on your head, am I right?” Nothing. “You’re supposed to laugh! Am I the only one with a sense of humor around here?”

Kirby checked his watch. “It looks like we have plenty of time before we’re going back to class, so you wanna hang out?”

“Yeah, sure,” Marx answered unhappily.

Bandana Dee watched them walk to the basketball courts. Looking down, he went towards one of the walls so he could sit down.

“Hey! You can join us, too!” Kirby called out to him. Turning around, he ran to catch up with them.

* * *

The three were sitting next to a large metal storage container on the field just next to the asphalt. A single tree lay nearby, and around twenty paces forwards was the fence blocking the school from the neighbors’ houses.

“So there I was, going through the forest, minding my own business, when that portal appeared out of nowhere and a dark orb came out! Somebody in it was freed when it broke on the ground, but I couldn’t stick around to look at who it was.” Marx was going on a rant about what happened on his way to school.

“Interesting...” Kirby seemed like he was buying it. “Did you see anything else happen to them?”

“N-no. But I swear, it really happened!”

“Hey, I believe you.” They sat silent for a moment. “Say, why do you wear that jester’s hat all the time?”

“It’s part of my outfit, okay? And this nice little bowtie too.” He pointed at it. “And these shoes. I like these shoes.” Only now did Bandana Dee notice that Marx was wearing shoes that were way too big for his feet. He decided not to question it.

Just then, the bell rang, so they all got up and headed to class.

“Can you meet me after school?” Kirby was asking Marx.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.”

“That’s great! And you can come too Bandana Dee. Let’s meet back at that metal box we were just sitting at. Maybe we can go over to each other’s houses soon and have some fun!”

As Kirby went ahead, Bandana Dee was left wondering how he could be so cheery all of the time. Marx called him a few times, then gave up and went ahead when he didn’t get a response.

* * *

The bell for lunch rang before he knew it, so Bandana Dee got out his lunch box and walked out the door, once again being the last one. He wasn’t exactly sure where to go, so he wandered around where the crowds were heading until Kirby came up to him.

“Do you know where the lunch tables are?” Bandana Dee shook his head. “I can show you then. Come with me!”

The two made their way through a split path, dodging a huge traffic jam through a narrow gate on the main route. Down an inward turn, the tables lay just ahead. Kirby sat down at one of the empty tables and motioned for Bandana Dee to join him.

“What did you bring for lunch?” Kirby asked, opening his lunch box.

“I have this...” He dug around in his bag. “This apple juice. And a sandwich... I think.”

“I’m thinking I should have brought a sandwich too. I got a salad, which is fine, but I’d prefer something else.”

The last of the kids made their way in, none sitting anywhere close to where the two of them sat. Marx was the very last one, and he made his way over and plopped down next to them.

“Hey, hey, hey! I got held up in the lunch line by those stupid cutters, what’s their problem?” He sighed. “Just the three of us here? That’s fine, I guess.” Moving some of the items off his tray, he picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite out of it. “Yuck! Who makes this stuff, rats? It tastes like garbage!” He tossed it into the trash can.

“Aw, I was gonna ask if I could have that,” Kirby said afterwards. Most of his food had already disappeared into his stomach.

“How did you eat that so fast?” Bandana Dee questioned.

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I just ate it quickly, I guess.”

The three sat, eating their lunch and making small talk until they were dismissed to the blacktop. They agreed to meet back at the storage container.

* * *

Just as they all sat down, the kid named Whispy walked up to the nearby tree and picked up the apples from the ground nearby. When he had accumulated a large handful of them, he walked close to them and tossed a few at Kirby.

“Ow!” He tried shielding himself from the rest. “Hey, what was that for?”

Without another word, he ran off.

“What a jerk,” Marx said afterwards. “Eh, don’t worry about him. I’m sure he won’t be doing something like that again when he sees what I can do!”

“What’s that?” Bandana Dee asked.

“It’s... it’s a secret. You won’t know until I show you, but when will I show you? Only time will—” He was interrupted by an apple falling on his head, this time from the tree. “Oh come on!” Walking up to it, he punted it onto the blacktop where it got stepped on by a few kids running by. He then decided to keep on kicking them around in every which way, some narrowly missing Kirby and Bandana Dee.

“Hey, watch where you’re hitting those!” Kirby called out to him.

One of the teachers was walking in their general direction, so they both ran up to try and get him to stop.

“What are you doing? I’m on a mission here, you see? These apples won’t kick themselves!”

They pointed out the teacher approaching them.

“Oh shoot!” he called out, then they all ran off.

* * *

Upon sitting back down in the class, the tall kid at their table gave them an unfriendly look and quickly turned away. Kirby and Bandana Dee glanced at each other for a moment, then returned their focus to the teacher.

She was passing out a syllabus for the class, giving a general overview of it in the process. It had to be signed and returned the next day, or else there would be consequences. She then went on to explain the rest of what would happen in the class, going on until the final bell.

After leaving the class, Bandana Dee headed towards the designated meeting spot. As he approached, he noticed Kirby standing just next to it.

“Let’s wait for Marx,” Kirby suggested.

About a minute later, he arrived, bouncing around with a beach ball in his hands from somewhere.

“Hey guys! Sorry ‘bout the holdup, but I had some _really_ important business to attend to!” It wasn’t a mystery to them that he was referring to snagging the ball he was holding.

A short while later, they all said their goodbyes and started home. They had planned to meet in the forest the next day after school to chat and play around. Marx had said that something strange happened in the woods on his way to school, but it wasn’t like he was to be taken seriously, judging by his overall behavior.

As Bandana Dee walked home, his mind completely empty, one of the boys from his class approached. He had dyed his hair blue and wore a blue shirt and matching pants. Drool dripped from his mouth, which was always kept ajar.

“Hi,” he said lazily, walking with him and staring off into the distance.

“Hey,” he replied, startled by their unexpected arrival. “What’s up?”

“I want to show you something. Tomorrow.”

“Oh, I kind of already had plans for tomorrow. Can you just tell me about it now?”

“I need to show you. Tomorrow. In the woods. Meet me there.” And with that, they skipped ahead, not even bothering with names. Bandana Dee watched as he disappeared down one of the streets, completely clueless as to what just happened.


	2. Falling Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirby and Bandana Dee find some tasty apples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 10 years*, the next part of this is finally here.
> 
> Ok so I kinda forgot this existed, but then I looked back one day and thought, "Hey why don't I update this?" And that's what I did, so here ya' go.
> 
> * When 1 normal day ≈ 331.8 actual days.

Kirby glanced up and down the street for signs of anyone else around. Besides some neighbor’s dog yapping, it didn’t seem like there were any others. At the branching path into the forest, he made one last glance around, then continued.

About halfway through the trip, he began to feel hungry. He was seriously tempted to take out his lunch and eat it at that moment, but quickly decided against it. He would just get hungrier at lunch, after all.

By the time he reached a clearing, his stomach grumbled once again and he couldn’t take it anymore. Looking around, he noticed an apple tree standing nearby, its fruit just ripe enough. He walked up to it and plucked the lowest apple he could reach—stil with a little difficulty from his height—and sat down to eat.

Just after taking his first bite, a short rustling appeared not too far off. Not a moment later, he could see a familiar brown sweater and blue bandana walking in through the path he had taken. He stopped eating and walked up behind a tree for a surprise.

It was almost impossible not to notice the bright pink against the brown and green of the trees. Bandana Dee quickly spotted his friend hiding behind a tree, but decided to play it like he didn’t notice. Down the path and over a few roots sticking up, Kirby hopped out at him as he approached.

“Surprise!” he exclaimed.

Bandana Dee glanced around awkwardly. “Oh, hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same here, but here we are!” He bounced happily. “Ooh, maybe we can meet here every day on the way to school. Do you walk to school every day?”

“Yeah."

“Great! We can set our own designated time every day and meet here to talk about stuff like homework. And maybe we can even help each other out if it’s too difficult, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Bandana Dee stayed silent for a few moments. “Uh, that’s cool. Can I get one of those apples?”

“Oh, I got mine from that tree over there.” He stuck a thumb towards it. “And it looks like these ones are _really_ good. Like really, really good. They’re super juicy and sweet, and that’s just how I like them.”

Bandana Dee walked up to the tree and searched for a suitable apple. Kirby began looking around the area for... something. Eventually he settled on a bright red one handing fairly low, a perfect blend of ripeness and color. He crouched down and jumped as high as he could, but even then he couldn’t reach. After a few more attempts, he looked for other means of getting it.

Kirby grunted a few times, then dropped something heavy on the ground. “Look what I got here!” He wheezed.

Bandana Dee looked over to see a large log laying near the middle of the glade. “What’s that for?”

“It’s for sitting, of course! I sure don't want to sit on the ground. That’s uncomfortable and dirty.”

“Cool.” He walked towards him. “Say, uh, you mind helping me out here? I’m trying to get this apple but it’s too high for me to reach.”

“Sure! I can give it a try.”

Sure enough, Kirby was too short to reach it as well. Bandana Dee gave a mental sigh and continued searching around.

One stick in particular stood out to him, long, pointed, and smooth. It was as if it was made exactly for what he was going to do. He walked up and picked it off the ground. Taking a few steps towards the apple tree, he lurched it back over his shoulder, closed one eye, and took aim. Once satisfied with the trajectory, he sent it flying forwards, cleanly stabbing the apple and knocking it off into a grassy area.

Kirby turned over to him, surprised. “Woah.” He stared between the boy’s face and the landing site for a few moments in silence. “That was amazing! I don’t think I would’ve ever been able to do that!”

“Oh, thanks,” he replied, walking over and picking the stick off the ground. “Y’know, that’s actually my first time doing something like that. I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“Wow, I guess you’re just really talented then.” Kirby walked to the log and sat down. “Come sit with me!”

Bandana Dee walked over and set himself down. He took a bite of his apple in silence.

“I think we might need to get to school soon,” Kirby said, checking his watch. “But we’re gonna be back here after school, too! And maybe we could even tell Marx about meeting here with us. If he can of course. If not, that’s fine, because we can always meet in other places, too.”

“Is there enough time for us to finish our apples?” Bandana Dee asked.

“There should be, but I can let you know if we’re running short on time. I’ve been through these woods a million times, so I know exactly how long it takes to get from one side to the other and back.”

The two continued their snacks, enjoying the most delicious fruit either of them had ever had. They both made mental notes to return to this tree in particular for apples.

A bell rang off in the distance, startling them.

“Oh, whoops! I must’ve lost track of the time!” Kirby got up and tossed his core away. “Come on, we gotta move quick or we’re gonna be late!”

Bandana Dee reluctantly tossed away his half-eaten apple into the trees and got up. Kirby took the lead and he followed close behind.

* * *

The two burst into the classroom just as the late bell rang. A few kids gave them strange looks, then began talking with their friends. They said nothing as they returned to their seats and caught their breaths.

Morning announcements came and gone, nothing notable as far as the class was concerned. Upon the loudspeaker turning off, everyone resumed talking. Paintra quieted them down to begin class for the day.

“There’s one thing in the world that I absolutely love doing to pass the time. It’s just so wonderful, so entertaining, so magnificent. I’ll let you guess what that is.” Everyone looked around in boredom “Winner gets jelly beans!” A lot of the hands immediately shot up.

One girl, Adeleine from what Bandana Dee could recall, was the first picked.

“Art! It’s really fun when you get into it.”

“That’s right! Art is fantastic. Now, what kind of jelly beans do you want?”

“Oh, actually I’m fine.” She shrugged. “I don’t really like them anyways.”

“Well, if you say so.” She walked up to the front of the class. “I’d like to introduce you all to today’s assignment.” The class instinctively groaned. “It’s an open-ended art assignment! Draw whatever. As long as you give it effort, you’ll get full credit. You may start now.”

Everyone started taking out pieces of paper and art supplies. Bandana Dee and the dark-haired boy looked around aimlessly.

“Hey, uh, do you have a piece of paper I can borrow?” Bandana Dee asked Kirby.

“I sure do!” He took one out and gave it to him. “Here you go.”

“Would you mind if I could have one as well?” This was from the dark haired boy. His voice was deep and a little on the quiet side.

“Of course!” He took out another sheet of paper. “And, here you go.”

“Thank you.”

They all started taking out their own supplies, but only Kirby started drawing.

“Hey, what’re you gonna do?” he asked Bandana Dee.

“I... don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out soon.”

A few thoughts came by, getting dismissed soon after entering his mind. He set his head down on his hand and rested it there, looking to see what the rest of the class was doing. All of a sudden he had an idea, so he placed his pencil down and started the first sketch.

* * *

The bell rang before he knew it, and all the kids placed their items away and filed out the door. Marx gave the two a nod and put on his hat on the way out. Bandana Dee was the last of the bunch again. Upon exiting, he made his way to the storage container.

“I saw them again!” he heard as he approached. “Just walking down one of the paths in the forest.”

“What’d you see?” Bandana Dee asked as he rounded the corner.

“Those two from yesterday. Red Dude and Egg Boy. The ones that came out the portal. Except this time they were out and about and not just laying on the floor. And Egg Boy was real weird looking, now that I got a good look at him. He had floating hands and he floated off the ground. But that didn’t matter because he wasn’t on the ground, he was on Red Dude’s back or something. Weird stuff, I tell you!”

The other two stayed silent and tried to process what he was saying.

Kirby spoke up first. “What were they doing?”

“I dunno. Just walking through the woods, I guess.”

“That’d seem awfully strange if they walked through the forest just to walk through it.”

“Well hey! It’s not like I have the time to go and question them or anything!”

A boy and a girl, almost identical twins, walked into view and started talking to each other, glancing at them every now and then. The boy wore a mainly light blue attire while the girl wore a pink outfit with a bow in her hair.

Without giving it any thought, Kirby walked up to them. “Hi! My name’s Kirby. What’s your guys’?”

The girl whispered something to the other’s ear. The boy answered for the both of them.

“H-hey, I’m Lololo and this is my sister Lalala.”

“Cool! You wanna be friends?”

Lololo started backing up, her sister following close behind. “Uh, I think I gotta go now.” They then broke off running onto the blacktop towards the basketball courts.

“Awww. I was hoping we could make our friend group even bigger, but I guess not.” Kirby walked back to the other two and sat down.

They stayed silent for a moment until Marx took out his beach ball from the day before. “Hey, look what I can do!"

He tossed it on the ground, then hopped on top of it. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his balance perfectly well and rolled along the ground a little.

“Marx!” Kirby giggled. “You absolute clown!”

“I’m a jester, not a clown! Know the difference!”

Marx crouched down, rolled the ball forwards a short ways, then hopped up and landed himself back on it.

“Woohoo!” he cried out, spinning around.

Even Bandana Dee couldn’t help but laugh a little at the sight.

With a few more fancy tricks, Marx returned to where the others were sitting.

“Lookit that! I bet I’m the only one here that could ever do that.”

“Even if it’s just a party trick,” Bandana Dee said, “I guess it’s still pretty cool.”

* * *

Lunch came surprisingly quickly. Everyone crammed out the door once again while Bandana Dee took out his lunch box. Once the last of the bunch had left, he made his way out as well.

Kirby was there to lead him back to the lunch tables. There was still no one at the branching path besides them, apparently.

The two sat down and opened their lunches. Bandana Dee took out his sandwich and took a bite out of it.

“I remembered to bring a sandwich of my own this time,” Kirby said, taking it out. “I made it just right, I think. A perfect balance of meat, cheese, and—”

The sandwich was snatched right out of his hand before he was able to take a bite. They looked up to see the big kid from their table group, Whispy, the twins, and a couple others standing in front of them.

“Hey, give that back!” Kirby yelled.

“Why should I?” the big kid responded. “It’s my sandwich, after all.”

The twins were obviously uncomfortable, but they made no move to do anything.

“No, it’s mine! You just took it, give it back!”

The big kid laughed a little, then took a bite out of it and walked off. The rest of the group besides the twins went with him. No one said anything for a little.

“I’m really sorry,” Lololo said to them.

“That’s just how he is,” Lalala finished.

The two walked off without another word. A few steps into the other group’s path, however, and they walked off to a different table nearby. Marx arrived shortly afterwards.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” he said, sitting down. “This time, I was near the front of the line, and I stayed there too. But I’ll still be on the lookout for cutters in the future because those guys really suck.”

“Oh, hey Marx,” Kirby said somewhat glumly.

“Something’s wrong. You’re not Mr. Bright and Cheery right now. What happened?”

“Someone stole my sandwich and ran off with it.”

Marx looked around. “Well let’s go get it back, then. Come on, who took it, let’s show ‘em not to mess with us!”

“Just forget it. I have enough of my lunch here already.”

Bandana Dee looked up at him, then back to his own lunch. “Hey, I can give you some of my own sandwich if you want.”

Kirby immediately perked up. “Wait, really? Thank you so much! Oh, uh, not trying to sound greedy here.”

Bandana Dee took off a small portion of his own sandwich and gave it to Kirby, who immediately stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

“Thanks!” he said, muffled from the food.

Once they were dismissed to the blacktop, they all returned to their meeting spot next to the metal container.

* * *

Somewhere, behind one of the fences, stood a boy, intently focused on the surrounding events. Beneath his long, dark hair, he glared at all the passerbys. All of them seemed so happy, so content with all their lives. One could toss a ball on top of another and laugh it off like it was nothing. But he didn’t get it. Why would they simply accept others while barely getting to know them?

He pondered on this question, as well as a few others as three kids walked up in his vision, then back out behind a large box. Something about one of them stuck out to him, so he walked off to the side and watched them. One of them, wearing a jester’s attire for whatever reason, was performing tricks on top of a beach ball. They bounced around, posed, and laughed with the other two.

One of the two sitting down had something special, from what he could sense. That pink hair and shirt—just something seemed so strange about him. Maybe it was his attire, maybe his personality, but something was certainly special about him.

He was so focused on watching that he didn’t notice one of them turn to stare him back. When his mind came back to, they locked eye contact for a second, then he ran off towards the forest in hopes that he could stay hidden.

* * *

Bandana Dee quickly turned to the others. “Did anyone else see that?”

“See what?” the other two said in unison.

“Another kid. He had this black hair and a grey jacket. I didn’t get to see much else about him, but he looked to be staring us down, or something.”

“Probly just your imagination,” Marx said. “I wouldn’t expect to see someone coming over here and watching us, much less a kid.” He took a look for himself. “See? Nothing there."

Bandana Dee was still a little unsure. “But—actually, nevermind.”

Marx set his ball down and stared ahead blankly. A moment later, he blinked rapidly and looked around.

“What are we s’posed to do now?” he asked.

There was no reply.

“Wait,” he said, standing up. “I know exactly what to do.” He ran up to the apple tree.

Kirby quickly followed. “Marx, no! You’re gonna get us in trouble!”

“Can’t stop me!”

Bandana Dee sighed and watched as they played an improvised soccer, one rather reluctantly. Maybe he could stay on the sidelines for longer than a few minutes before an apple inevitably bounced into him.

* * *

At the last bell of the day, he got up and waited for everyone to leave so he wouldn’t get crushed on the way out. It seemed like everyone wanted to move as slow as they possibly could this time, so he looked around the classroom for a bit.

Besides him, a few others were waiting for the same reason. Adeleine was with the blue-haired girl that sat by Zan, who was with the last of her group. Only now did he notice that the three of them actually looked pretty similar, almost identical. Perhaps they were related, even.

At the back of the class stood Susanna, all by herself. She was watching the rest of the class take their leave as well, almost completely still.

At the opposite end of the class was the dark-haired boy from his table. Maybe it was just a hunch, but the boy seemed somewhat uncomfortable by her presence. He looked down towards the floor in front of the large group of kids exiting, and not once did he change his view.

And finally was the blue-haired boy from the previous afternoon. (He really needed to get better with names.) He was walking in circles aimlessly around a few of the desks for seemingly no reason in particular. His hands dangled down in front of him and his back was slightly bent. Every so often, drool would seep down his tongue, then get sucked back up into his mouth.

Finally, the last of the kids trickled out the door and the remaining stragglers walked out neatly and without obstruction. The blue boy was the last out, and made no move towards Bandana Dee, which he was glad for. He decided not to keep the other two waiting and ran towards the forest.

Kirby and Marx were already waiting for him, sitting next to each other on the log. Marx was listening closely to something the other was saying, which seemed out of place for him given his personality. Bandana Dee crunched a few leaves along the way to alert the others of his presence.

“Oh, there you are.” Kirby got up, then immediately sat back down. “Come sit with us over here! We have room for one more.”

He sat down next to them. “So... what’s up?”

“Not much,” Kirby answered. “Say, I was just telling Marx about your move this morning. You mind showing it to him?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see it. But there’s no way that’d be better or more practical than my skills on this ball.” For some reason, he still held onto it, but Bandana Dee pushed the thought away quickly.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, picking up the stick from that morning. He stepped back from the tree and chose his target. Upon finding a suitable apple, he bent his arm back, took aim, and tossed it forwards. The stick flew forwards, pierced the apple, and dropped on the ground on a patch of grass.

“Woah,” Marx said in awe. “That was pretty cool! B-but I mean, that still doesn’t beat my tricks by a mile.”

“Oh, sure, whatever you say.” Bandana Dee picked up the projectile and took off the apple. “Either of you hungry? I’m not.”

“Dibs!” Marx hopped up and took the apple within a second. Moments later, he sat back down and took his first bite. “Y’know, I knew these apples would be good, judging by their color, but I didn’t think they’d be this good!” He took another large bite.

“Yup!” Kirby turned to face him. “Bandana Dee and I got some of these this morning and gave them a try. And then we realized that these were so, so good! Just perfect! Oh, and speaking of this morning—”

Leaves crunched from behind. The three turned around, but nothing was there. A second later, the blue-haired boy appeared behind a tree and waved at them.

“Hi,” he said, walking up to their bench. “I’m Gooey. Who are you?”

Kirby answered. “Hi Gooey! I’m Kirby, and these are my friends Marx,” he gestured towards him, “and Bandana Dee. Nice to meet you!”

“Kirby, Marx, Bandana Dee,” he repeated. “Hello. I was going to show Banana Dee something in the woods. Today.”

“Wait, my name isn’t—”

“That’s cool!” Kirby interrupted him. “Is it okay if we come along?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

Gooey sucked up some spit and walked down a path. The others gave each other a shrug and followed. A short ways down, Gooey suddenly stopped and walked into the trees. Reluctantly, the other three went after him.

After a few minutes of wandering around, they emerged in a neighborhood. Gooey stopped and stared at the houses.

“What’d we come here for?” Marx asked.

Gooey sucked another round of spit. “Oh. I went the wrong way. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay!” Kirby said. “You can still show us.” He turned to the others. “You guys still have time?”

“Yeah,” Marx and Bandana Dee said at the same time.

“I need to get home,” Gooey said. “Maybe tomorrow, then. In the woods. Meet me there. I’ll show you.” With that, he walked back into the woods.

The three stood in silence for a little.

“Should we be there, or not?” Marx asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Kirby answered. “He just forgot where he was going, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll remember tomorrow.”

“Well I dunno. Something about him is telling me that he won't. Maybe we should just skip it.”

“I’m gonna be there, at least. If he thinks it’s important to show Bandana Dee whatever he was going to show, then it’s gotta be important, right?” He turned to Bandana Dee. “You’ll come with me tomorrow, won’t you?”

Bandana Dee looked around nervously. “Uh...”

“Please?”

“Don’t do it,” Marx shout-whispered, almost teasingly.

“Uh... m-maybe. I’ll see if I have time, okay?”

“Alright, sounds great!” Kirby turned to the others. “I gotta get going now. My parents’ll be worried sick if I don’t get home soon.” He waved and walked into the forest. “Bye!”

Marx looked over at Bandana Dee, who was staring off at the path. “Are you gonna be there, or did you just say that to make him feel better?”

He stayed silent for a moment. “I... I don’t know yet.”

“That kid looks kinda coo-coo, you know what I’m saying? I’d say it’s not worth the time, but it’s your choice, after all.” He looked down the street. “I gotta get going as well, so see ya’ tomorrow!”

“Yeah, bye...” Bandana Dee waved him off, but stayed put. In all honesty, he really didn’t know if he would be there tomorrow. He started down the path through the forest and tried to forget about it for the time being, but the thought just wouldn’t go away. Be there, or don’t?

He was so focused on the question that he didn’t notice the shadowy figure standing in the trees, eyeing him closely. Upon spotting Bandana Dee approaching, he ran off into the depths of the woods.


	3. Darkness Unfolds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shady kiddo tries causing some trouble.

Far, far above in the clouds, a small temple lay rested atop a thundering cloud. Every so often, a ray would strike down towards the ground in an instant, and rain would pour down along with it. For miles, this was the only sort of blockade to the sun, storming down on a tiny patch of grass beneath. Once or twice, a bird would pass by and stare for a moment, then continue on its merry way.

The temple was perhaps twice the height of an adult and composed entirely out of golden rock. A door on one of its faces led to pitch blackness that not even the sun’s rays could penetrate. Torches led down the narrow passageway leading up to it, none of them burning. From what little light entered, a tall ovate figure could just barely be made out.

A reflection suddenly appeared on the shape, that of an even darker body with a face covered by some circular object. They glared up towards the entrance of the pyramid, watching all the creatures fly by. One was sure to enter at some point, and when that moment came, release would finally arrive. And then, there would be no limits or boundaries on what could be done.

Several bricks started to teeter from the structure’s top, threatening to drop from the high wind. They made no effort to object the force and instead let themselves be pushed around on each other. A few started to lean above the entrance, only to be pushed back upright by the gale.

A swarm of birds flew overhead, searching around for seemingly nothing at all. For the most part they traveled in a set formation so as to keep together. The back of the group was the most spread out of the bunch and had a small difficulty keeping up with the rest. One of these was barely managing to stay aloft at all and considering if it should ditch its flock for a while and get some rest.

Just below was a short building that seemed like the perfect opportunity for what it wanted to do. Swooping down quickly, it perched itself on top of a block that looked to be barely staying part of the formation. Several times, it bounced back and forth, but that wasn’t enough to stop the bird from resting a moment. Unfortunately, that looked to be the end of its near perfectly restored balance.

Without anything to prevent it, the brick toppled over quickly in front of the doorway inside, causing the bird to scatter. A chain reaction came next with several more blocks falling to guard the only entryway. Dust puffed up from the ground and blocked vision of anything nearby, though inside it wasn’t like it mattered. After all the smoke had dispersed, there remained no visible exit to the outside world.

The figure in the mirror continued to stare at the now blocked doorway for a while longer. There was certainly no chance of being found now, though it wasn’t all that easy in the first place. After an intense staring session with a wall, they walked off, leaving the mirror blank once again.

* * *

“Y’know where Marx is?” Kirby asked at recess that day. He and Bandana Dee were at their usual meeting spot, sitting next to each other.

Bandana Dee looked over at him. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I haven’t seen him all day.” He turned to his friend. “You think something bad happened to him?”

“I don’t think so. He’s probably just sick or something, that’s all.”

The two sat staring forwards for quite a while. Somewhere off in the distance, a flock of birds squawked and approached the skies above the school.

A basketball bounced nearby and rolled forwards into the fence, nearby where Gooey was wandering around. Upon noticing the ball, he picked it up, then placed his entire tongue on it and licked it. The original holder of it watched disgustingly as he lazily tossed it aside and continued on his way.

“Hey!” they called out to him. He wore a back facing cap and short sleeved shirt with shorts. “What was that for?”

Gooey stopped, but didn’t turn around. His pursuer reached him quickly and stood just in front of him.

“Hi there. My name’s Gooey. It’s nice to meet you.” He held out a hand, looking to be in between a high five and a handshake.

“What’d you lick my basketball for? That’s just disgusting!”

They stared at each other for a good while, not doing anything. The basketball holder was a little taller than Gooey and certainly angry.

“Do you want to be my friend?” He sagged his arms down and let a drop of drool run down his tongue.

The other boy looked at him angrily and curled his hands into fists.

“Do you want—” Gooey repeated, only to be cut off by a punch to his face. He fell to the ground and held a hand to the area of pain, but only looked mildly annoyed by the effect. The other boy spit on the ground in front of him and walked off.

Kirby and Bandana Dee watched in awe. After a second, they looked to one another and ran up to him.

“Are you okay?” Kirby asked. He frantically ran around him, searching for any other damage. To the side, Bandana Dee watched awkwardly.

Gooey got up on his own and looked towards the two. “Look at this,” he said, starting towards the boy who hit him.

“Wait, no!” Kirby dashed after him, his friend following in a slow walk.

Gooey already reached his destination before he could be stopped. He followed just behind for a short while, staying completely silent, then stopped along with his target. Looking behind, Kirby was waving his hands and shaking his head, practically begging him not to do anything, but it wasn’t like it was going to make a difference. Gooey simply smiled lazily, then turned back around. In one swift motion, he hopped up and flicked the boy’s hat off into his hands with his tongue, all without him noticing. After placing it on his head, he walked back to the other two, who were completely speechless.

“Did you see that?” he said, approaching.

“That. Was. Awesome!” Kirby pumped his hands up into the air. “That’s what he gets for messing with you!”

“Yeah, and he didn’t even notice, too,” Bandana Dee added.

“Wait till you see the look on his face when he realizes it’s not there! He’s gonna be all like: ‘Huh? Where’d my hat go? I could’ve sworn I just had it.’” Kirby held a hand to his head like an explorer and looked around while doing his impression. The other two couldn’t help but have a short laugh.

Bandana Dee looked over to the boy in question, who still hadn’t yet realized. “Might be best to get going before he does notice, though.”

The other two could barely keep from giggling to themselves. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Kirby led the way to their meeting spot again. Gooey lingered for a short while, then decided to follow.

* * *

Bandana Dee was completely bored out of his mind. In front of him was the blank sheet of paper, and he knew well what he was going to draw, so why couldn’t he just set down his pencil and start?

Beside him, Kirby was doing well in his drawing of... something. He was blocking most of it with his elbow, though probably unintentionally. An enormous box of crayons lay open on his desk, and every so often he would switch out one color for another. In one such switch-out, his elbow accidentally bumped into his friend’s.

“Oop. Sorry,” he whispered, then returned to his work.

With a sigh, Bandana Dee looked up to the rest of the class. It looked like all of them were working hard, except for maybe one or two stragglers he couldn’t notice, so what was so hard about doing it himself? He looked back down at his empty paper and stared at it for a good while. After a moment, he decided to just start on it so he didn’t have to do it as homework. After all, he could revise it some other time.

His pencil was intently focused on drawing a curve the smoothest it possibly could. It was no easy task, but with all the silence, the job was made a whole lot easier. Everything was going well and it would have been a perfectly drawn line, if it wasn’t for the door abruptly slamming open.

“I’m baaaaaack!” came an all too familiar voice from just outside. Marx walked in and quickly took a look around at all the staring faces and decorated sheets of paper. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Marx, please just take a seat and get to work,” Paintra instructed, staring him down. “And please take your hat off, too.”

He grumbled something indistinguishable and sat down at his desk. After picking his hat off, he turned to Kirby and Bandana Dee and gave them a wink, then took out his own paper. Nice to know one more of their friends was there, at least.

* * *

A bell could be heard, immediately followed by a large bunch of kids exiting their classes and walking in one general direction. From previous visits, this looked to be leading up to their large gathering on the asphalt, where they would all have their choice to do whatever they wanted, be it running around screaming or just chatting with others. And when that moment came, the time would be just right for his “master plan” as they called it.

It actually didn’t take too long for the first of the bunch to arrive, so he started searching around for a likely candidate. One that was supposed to meet all the conditions, which he didn’t even know all that well. Maybe just choose a random one and hope that it works out in the end.

The first idea was to choose the pink boy seen several times walking about. Maybe all those specialties of his—whatever they were—could be taken advantage of. Or perhaps just be discovered in the first place. But maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, seeing as the others around him had a similar sort of energy surrounding them. And speaking of them, it looked like another had joined. He had an entirely blue outfit and a face that seemed to be lacking any sort of seriousness or focus at all. This boy certainly also had something special about him.

So that group was a no-go, but what about any others? A quick scan of the area showed many to be just about the same to each other, all of no use. Like the pink boy, a few stood out in some way, but he just couldn’t tell how or why. Could it be their ability? Or their relation to one another? Disregarding that, he just settled on a tall one that was leaning against the fence by himself, watching what looked to be some sort of game played by tossing an orange ball.

“Hey,” he whispered, walking up to the boy of choice. They didn’t appear to notice, so he repeated himself, this time with the intended result.

“Whaddya want?” the boy demanded, not even caring about how suspicious he looked.

“Let’s just make this quick. I have... something you may be interested in. I’d be willing to hand it to you, if you give me a hand, too.”

“Yeah, like I’d be willing to do that. I ain’t dumb enough to be helping strangers. Get lost.”

“Say I gave you a peek at what’s in store for you. That’d change your mind?”

The tall boy stared forwards for a while. “Ya’ better be telling the truth here. Gimme a look. And make it snappy.”

He turned around to face the other boy, who happened to be wearing a grey jacket, wrapped around his entire body. He wasn’t able to get much more of a look than that before being struck on the head with something quite soft, despite being on the other side of a fence. Immediately, he leaned his head against it and began feeling quite dizzy, then lost control of himself. Before his vision faded away, he was able to make out a pair of legs walking off, but not much of the details. With one final breath, he let himself succumb to the otherworldly control over his body.

* * *

Marx took his regular route from the lunch tables to the storage container. Despite only doing it for a day or two, it had already become natural to meet with his newfound friends there. Except he didn’t like calling them friends, rather they were his “allies.” There’d be no way he’d ever call them friends. Ever. No matter how much they seemed like it.

Despite being the first one up from the tables, he was the last one to reach his destination of the three. Sitting down next to Kirby, he almost didn’t notice that one blue boy he remembered from yesterday, though he couldn’t quite recall his name. Upon spotting him, he got up and approached.

“Hey, you!” He stuck a finger at the blue boy. “What’s-your-name, Blobby or something. What’re you doing here?”

Kirby got up and went between the two of them. “Marx, it’s okay! He’s our friend.” He turned to “Blobby”. “You’re our friend, aren’t you?”

The boy in question excitedly bounced a few times and grinned.

“See? Even he knows it.” He turned to Marx. “And also, his name is Gooey. Remember that!”

“Eh, whatever.” Marx sat down in his usual place and became bored really quickly. After a moment of waiting for someone to say something, he decided to take matters into his own hands. “I bet I could slouch lower than any of you could.”

Kirby faced him with a playful smile. “Oh, you’re on!” From just behind, Blobby was watching lazily, looking like he was going to join in as well. Only now did Marx notice that he was wearing a cap today.

No matter how hard he tried, Kirby was no match for Marx’s impressive yet useless feat. “Ha!” he laughed. “You couldn’t beat me at this no matter how hard you tried! Looks like yet another victory for the noble jester of—”

Bandana Dee cut him off. “But what about this?”

Marx took a look over to him in confusion. Just behind, Blobby was even lower than he was, which seemed almost impossible.

“What? No way, I can still beat that!” He slowly tried lowering himself farther, only to immediately lose his hold and fall.

“It looks like we have a winner!” Kirby declared, getting up. “Let’s give it up for...” Bandana Dee gave a mock drum roll against the storage container. “Gooey!”

The victor got up and raised his hands in the air, letting a drop of spit fall onto the ground in doing so. Shortly after, the two sat down again, leading into another wave of silence.

“What’d I miss while I was gone?” Marx asked after a while.

“Not much,” Kirby answered. “We got a bit of work done on our art assignment, but you were there for that. And besides that there wasn’t anything interesting.”

“I found a balloon.” The other three looked over to the blue boy, who was indeed holding a balloon in his hands. And it wasn’t just an ordinary balloon, either. It’s surface was decorated with what looked to be the design of a blimp. He released it, letting it float slightly upwards in a crawl, then picked it back up. None of the others were even going to ask how or why he got it.

“That’s... cool,” Kirby said after a moment. “What’re you gonna do with it?”

“Hold it.”

None of them said anything and instead continued staring at it. Not too far off, footsteps approached, though none of them realized in their trance.

The tall kid walked out just in front of their group, yet they still didn’t notice. By now, they had lost interest in the orb and were instead focused on the floor. He gave it a short look, then approached them.

Bandana Dee was the first to spot him approaching, but said nothing. Upon reaching the group, he kicked the balloon out of the boy’s hands, tossed it to the side, and popped it with a stomp. Blobby immediately got up and faced him, only to get shoved back down. His facial expression didn’t change the entire time.

“Hey, wait a second!” Kirby got up and faced the tall boy. “You can’t do that! No one hits my friend twice in one day! Or at all!”

They turned to face him, then snickered. “What’re you gonna do about it, shorty? If you care so much about your friends, then why don’t you stand up for them? Why just let them get pushed around by everyone?”

Kirby gulped and took a slight step back. “I do! But—”

“Prove it then.”

A few gasps were heard. Kirby and his group took a look around at the newly formed ring of kids surrounding them. Blobby, on the other hand, looked like his mind had left his body a long time ago. Marx got up and quickly motioned for the other two to follow him out so they didn’t get mixed up in the trouble. After a short struggle, Blobby joined too.

Upon reaching the outskirts of the ring, Marx realized that even if they weren’t “friends” so to say, he wasn’t just going to abandon one of his only acquaintances now. With just a quick wave to the others, he made his way back inside the ring and to what he expected to be a fight.

Weaving so fast in between the crowd, he hadn’t realized how far away he was to the center of attention. By the time he noticed the bright pink figure, it was too late for him to do anything. With only a short gasp, he collided directly into a pair of legs, sending them both to the ground. As they landed, something slicing the air could be heard from above, followed by another round of gasps. Then, complete silence.

“Uh, whoops.” Marx got up slowly and tried to take a look at what had just happened. “Hey, why’d everyone get so quiet all of a sudden?”

In front of him was his hat, which had fallen onto the ground during his faceplant. He quickly snagged it and put it on upon seeing it, then got up. Kirby followed shortly after, turning to face him in doing so. On his face was a shocked expression.

“You...” Kirby started, but without anything else.

“Yeah, yeah, the whole school’s seen me without my hat. So what?”

“No, you...” He took a few deep breaths, then continued. “You just prevented me from getting punched by that kid. If... if you hadn’t slammed into me, I’d have been hit in the face.”

“That’s cool and all, but you will get hit in the face if you don’t get out of here!” The bell rang at that moment, making the crowd scatter. The tall kid gave them a grunt, then reluctantly followed. “Perfect timing. Come on, let’s get to class.”

Kirby continued taking deep breaths and staring at him. The other two, seeing an opening, walked over to see what was up.

“What just happened over here?” Bandana Dee asked. “You ran in, then everyone gasped and was silent all of a sudden.”

Marx took a step towards the classrooms, still facing the others. “Can we just talk about this after school? We’ll have plenty more time then.”

“Yeah, sure.” Bandana Dee started towards the blacktop with Blobby following. “Probably best to get going before we’re late.”

The other two stood for a second, then walked together towards the classroom. Kirby was in so much shock that he couldn’t even say anything. Okay, so maybe after all of that they had stepped up from being allies. Maybe... buddies, then. Not friends, but the odds of them becoming so may have increased. Just a bit.

* * *

Step one was... complete, more or less, but it could have been better. If he had known about the little incident that was doomed to occur, then maybe he could have done something about it. Of course, seeing into the future wasn’t exactly something in his set of skills, though he was pretty sure there were some who could.

Back to focus, the bell rang once again, so it was only a matter of time before they came. With only a day of knowledge, he knew well that they would return to this clearing in particular, seeing the aforementioned apple tree and log he had overheard from their conversations. They’d arrive soon, so best to pick the target now before it was too late.

The pink boy was obviously ruled out, so who else was there? That blue boy or something, he seemed to be a likely target, being so naive and, er, stupid, for lack of a better term. All that energy and power could be put to good use, after all.

Even though he made his decision already, he decided to regard the other two as well. Up first was the bandana fellow, not much to say about him. They hadn’t so much energy within, but rather pure skill and a hardened will to succeed, no matter what the circumstances. That one lance throw seemed particularly out-of-place though, as they truly hadn’t had any practice in doing so as they’d said. Or so he’d been told.

Last was the jester, and boy was there a lot of potential there. This kid would definitely be the next choice if it wasn’t so easy to subdue the primary selection. First of all, he was filled with many crazy yet useless talents that would really only be used to show off. A lot of those involved the beach ball he carried around... in his pocket or something—how’d he carry it around anyway? Other than that, something special emanated inside, though it wasn’t like the other three had that as well. Something could be done with him, just way outside any reasonable boundary to be practical.

Being so focused on his mind, he didn’t notice the blue one walk up to the side of him.

“Hello,” they said lazily. “Who are you?”

The dark boy was startled and gave a short look around. Nobody else was nearby, so now was the perfect opportunity! With a wave of his arms, a dark hammer shape formed in his hands, which was slammed down on the other boy’s head. Despite the supposed effects, and the results on the taller one from before, they simply looked up at the shadowy particles falling down in a short area. They even managed to land one on their tongue and swallow it up. Full of shock and confusion, the darker one took a step back.

“You... you’re one, t-too?”

The blue boy let his tongue slack. “One? No, I’m Gooey. Who are you?”

He continued backing up for a while, now noticing the sets of footsteps approaching. After a moment, he broke into a run through the trees, no destination in mind. All he wanted to do was get out of there as fast as he could.

“Bye.” Gooey waved as the other ran off, but without getting noticed.

* * *

Down the winding path through the trees, Kirby emerged into the empty clearing he had seen several times before. Gooey was supposed to be here today, right? Or did he remember wrong, and it was supposed to be tomorrow? As he took a glance around, it seemed that no one else was around, so just maybe he had remembered wrong. No worries, though. He had to get through the clearing to get home, anyway, so no harm done.

Just after passing the log-bench, something rustled and crunched in the distance, then out popped Gooey from behind a tree. Walking up to the bench himself, he started to bounce up and down, sending a bit of saliva scattering around.

“Hey, stop!” Despite how gross it was, Kirby couldn’t help but have a short giggle at what was happening. “I’m here because you wanted to show me something, remember?”

Gooey stopped his routine and gave a nod.

“But we should probably wait for the other two first. Even if they don’t decide to come along, best to give them a chance, anyways.”

The two sat down on the bench and simply stared forwards at the path leading up to school. Kirby was considering whether or not he should get an apple for the time being or just wait for the others to arrive.

Marx and Bandana Dee came in side by side not too long after and waved to the others. Kirby and Gooey slid over on the log to give them some room to sit down.

“Alrighty, first things first you two,” Marx pointed at Gooey and Bandana Dee, “wanted to know what happened at lunch today, and I’d be glad to explain.” The two audience members gave a nod and watched. “So. It all started when we exited that ring of kids guarding the entrance to the battlefield. I, of course, immediately realized that Kirby here was no match for the fierce... uh, other kid. Anyways, upon recognizing this, I knew I had to go in there and give some help, or he’d be doomed to fail. So I charged in there, bursting past all who tried to—”

“He ran in and bumped me to the ground,” Kirby finished. “I would’ve gotten punched in the face if he hadn’t.”

“Hey! I wasn’t done with my story!”

“Well I don’t want to be here till I’m old listening to it,” Bandana Dee said. “Just a summary’s necessary, that’s all.”

After a moment, Gooey got up and stood in front of all of them. “Can I show you something?”

“Sure!” Kirby replied. He turned to the others still sitting. “You guys coming, or what?”

“Oh, uh, I kinda gotta get home soon, so...” Bandana Dee got up and took a step towards one of the paths.

“Yeeeeah, me too.” Marx got up as well.

“Oh, that’s fine then. I guess it’ll just be you and I, Gooey. Lead the way.”

The two parties waved each other off and split paths. Without anything else, Gooey walked off into a seemingly random part of the woods, the other close behind. Hopefully he’d get it right today—even Kirby had some doubts about his reliability. 

Through the dense trees and scattered leaves, the two made their way to a part of the forest where they could see the sunlight somewhere off in the distance. Gooey led the way towards it, leaving Kirby to believe they had almost reached their destination. At the very least, he hoped that Gooey’s concept of the word interesting was the same as his own.

Past one particularly large bush, and the two made it back into the neighborhood. Gooey made a slight frown and stared forwards at it, replicating his reaction from the previous day.

“Is this it?” Kirby asked, though he already knew the answer.

“No.” He continued to stare forwards. “I went the wrong way. I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine! Look, we still have time, right? So just lead me the correct way and we’ll be good!”

Gooey didn’t respond for a short while. “I can’t. I need to get home. Tomorrow, then.”

“Okay, I’ll be there. Also, you sure you can’t just tell me what you want to show? Is it too hard to describe, or do I need to see it to get the full experience?”

“I just need to show you.” He started into the woods. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, bye!” They gave each other a wave. Probably best to get home himself, too.

Too bad Marx and Bandana Dee couldn’t make it for the trip. But they didn’t really miss much in the end. What was Gooey even trying to show? Was he deliberately just wasting his time by leading him the “wrong way”? Or was he really just that forgetful to lead him the same way two days in a row? Pondering on a few questions, he walked down the path towards his own house.

And speaking of the other two, what were they doing right now?

* * *

“And look at this! Doesn’t expire for something like...” The muffled sounds of bags rustling. “Years! But just look, it’s perfect, wouldn’t you say?”

A different boy’s voice responded. “Yeah, I guess I’d say that. But where do we sleep?”

“I’ll show ya’ where. Nothing to keep yourself warm though, so you just gotta use what stuff you got. Me? I have my beach ball to hold onto. It doesn’t do much, but it’s something.”

Something clanged loudly a few times, followed by complete silence.

“Did anyone hear that?” the first boy whispered after a while.

A long pause. “Don’t think so. Otherwise we would’ve heard someone, right?”

“Yeah, I guess...”

More silence. Something softed tapped against the hard metal floor, barely being audible to the outside.

“So how’d you stumble across all this?” the second boy asked.

“Let’s just say by chance. It’s a whole long story that you wouldn’t wanna hear.”

“Snooping around somewhere you shouldn’t be?”

A short pause. “No. I was just... okay maybe, but look at the bright side, we have a place to stay!”

“Seems awfully convenient for all this to be here, though. Why would all of this be here in the first place? That just makes no sense.”

“Well be glad for it. We’re gonna need all we can get.”

Another pause. Footsteps were heard, then quickly subsided.

“What time is it?” the first one asked.

“It’s, uh... time to go to bed.”

“You know what I mean! Hours and minutes!”

There was no response for a short while, as if the second boy was considering something. “Well, you’re just gonna have to see for yourself. But will you be able to—hey!”

“Ha! It’s mine now!”

“Give it back, you might break it!”

“You gotta take it back if you ever wanna see it again. Catch me if you can!”

Several hurried steps came next, heard by none in the darkness of the evening. Crickets chirped from somewhere, singing their song to bring out the moonlight for the night coming. If they had been close enough, one could hear the laughter and general chaos going on inside the box, but the darkening sky was enough to scare off any wanderers for the time being.


	4. Long Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirby and friends find an abandoned underground place thing.

The bird’s nest was rather unremarkable in the large array of branches spanning the top of the woods, though it did happen to be the most filled of them all. Be it eggs, food, or feathers, it was completely packed to the brim with all sorts of objects. Other birds couldn’t help but marvel at the vast collection that had been accumulated here, but none dared touch any of it for fear of its owner.

A large shadow descended quickly towards the nest, scattering all the nearby onlookers from the area. While most of them decided to make a break for it as far as they could, one fledgling hid behind one of the trees and watched eagerly. A multitude of colors appeared on the figure as it flapped its wings a few times to land safely on its home. It perched down on top of an egg, then rested its head and closed its eyes for a nap. The youngling still continued its staring session anyway in hopes of some action occurring soon.

Gentle footsteps came from a good distance back, not quite loud enough for the dominant avian to hear. Turning its neck back in one quick motion, it recognized a young girl with distinctive pink hair approaching the area, a sort of shiny bag on her back. Judging by previous behavior, the colorful one was sure to not take this situation lightly, allowing for a good show.

As she approached, a single eye opened in an instant on the large bird’s face. For only a split second, everything was still relatively peaceful—no movement between anything but the girl. Before even getting a good look at what was happening, she ran off screaming as the extremely territorial creature chased her away, squawking the whole time.

* * *

“I caught a fish today.”

Bandana Dee stared at him strangely. Obviously there was no fish in the other’s hands, but it seemed like a pattern for his behavior to do these sorts of things.

“Great,” he replied. “You got it with you or something?”

“No. I ate it.”

“Raw?”

Gooey looked upwards for a second. “Wait, no. I didn’t eat it. I gave it to them.”

“Who’s ‘them’?”

“There’s three. One is on the ground. One is in the trees. One is in the water. I let them figure out who gets the fish. But I don’t think the wet one liked it.”

He didn’t even bother trying to ask for any more clarification. “So how’d you catch it anyways?”

“I put my tongue in the stream. Then the fishy went up and bit it. Then I pulled it out and grabbed it.”

“That doesn’t—” He cut himself off as he noticed Gooey drooling once more, most likely not paying attention to a word he was saying. “Nevermind.”

Bandana Dee took a look out from behind the metal box. “You happen to know where the others are?” he asked, though not expecting a reasonable answer, if one at all.

“No.” Gooey bounced a few times, letting his cap fall over his eyes.

Bandana Dee sighed and let his vision wander around the surrounding area. Just the same as the past few days—the apple tree that’d lead to Marx getting in trouble one time or another, a couple of kids kicking a ball back and forth against the fence, and... that was about it. He leaned his head back in boredom and hoped the bell would ring soon, so he could just get back to doing work or something for the time being.

Gooey got up suddenly and walked out a short ways towards a small patch of dirt. Upon reaching it, he reached down and picked up something in his hand, then made his way towards the blacktop and out of sight.

He was only gone for a minute or so before returning right back to where he just was sitting. It almost looked like there was something on his mind, though Gooey being Gooey it wasn’t easy to tell.

“I found something. Do you want to see it?”

Bandana Dee almost wanted to just ignore him. Gooey looked like he could be either the most annoying or the most helpful person in the world, depending on what he was doing at the moment, but Bandana Dee strangely wasn’t leaning towards one or the other. Instead, he just viewed him as... actually, he didn’t know. But right now he just really disliked the blue boy for some reason.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

Gooey bounced a little, then scooted over to the other and splayed out one of his fists, which turned out to be empty. It was likely he didn’t even notice as he looked to be staring off at something behind Bandana Dee’s head.

Looking down at the emptiness, he kept quiet for a moment. “Uh, you don’t have anything there.”

“Oh.” Gooey finally noticed and set it down. “I think it’s in my other hand.”

He put up his other hand and opened it up, revealing another empty palm in its place. There was a short moment of silence while Bandana Dee took a look at it.

“There’s still nothing there.”

“Oh.” He set it down as well. “I think I dropped it. I’ll go get it.”

While he walked off, Bandana Dee immersed himself in his mind. It wasn’t all that likely Gooey would actually return with something, but if he did, it wouldn’t be something all that interesting. He was fairly certain of that.

* * *

Kirby made another hurrying motion to his friend as he hopped over a large root sticking out of the ground.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Marx replied, panting.

He was about to respond, but decided to save his breath. Up ahead looked to be a sunlit glade with two figures sitting along a long log.

“Come on! It’s just up here!”

Within a few seconds, he crashed through a low-hanging branch and burst into the field, alerting one of them of his presence. Marx followed in a few seconds later, wheezing heavily.

“Guys!” Kirby called out, gasping for breath. “We were able to make it!”

Bandana Dee stared at the two of them a little awkwardly. To his side, Gooey was intently focused on having a staring contest with a hole in a tree.

“What’re you doing here? Thought you wouldn’t be coming.”

“I was originally just gonna stay home, but I decided to go out and find what I thought’d be you three. Didn’t know Marx would be absent, too, and we met up at the forest’s entrance just as the last bell rang.”

Marx picked up from there. “Yeah. And we had to run all the way here to reach you two in time.”

A short moment of silence. Gooey raised his hands and patted the log a few times.

“Okay,” Bandana Dee said finally. “But it wasn’t like we were gonna do much. Just have a short chat, or something.”

“Well that’s still fine!” Kirby walked over and sat down on the bench. “Even if it is just a talk, then that’s cool.”

More silence as Marx walked over and took the final seat.

“Can I show you something?”

They probably would have forgotten Gooey was there at all if he hadn’t spoken up. The other three took a look towards him.

“Sure!” Kirby turned to face the others. “You wanna come, guys?”

The two turned to face each other for a moment.

“I guess,” Marx answered for them both. “Got nothing else to do, so why not?”

“Great.” Gooey got up and walked over to where he had gone the past few days. “Follow me.”

The other three got up and followed. Marx lingered for a moment before getting up as well.

* * *

“Should we just turn back now?” Marx asked. They had gone quite a distance and had definitely been out longer than the last few times out.

“What’d make you do that?” Kirby replied.

“‘Cause Blobby ain’t all that great at doing what he says he’s doing. Says he’ll show us something interesting, but I haven’t seen anything the slightest bit interesting.”

“Well maybe he’s just forgetful. It looks like he might be, judging by his... behavior, y’know? So I wouldn’t expect him to get it right the first time out, or maybe even the second or third, but I’m sure he’ll find it eventually.”

“Yeah, well I’m not so sure he’s getting it right any time soon. And I’m not so sure he’s got anything big to show us, either. What if it’s just a boulder or something?”

“Then that’d be a waste of our past few days, but we still got to spend time with friends! That’s always a good thing.”

Marx flinched just the slightest at the mention of the word. “Yeah, fine.”

Kirby considered whether he should continue venturing out with Gooey. After all, there really wasn’t anything they were doing by going out besides wasting time, but he didn’t want to make it seem like he was disinterested in what the other boy wanted to show.

Marx suddenly looked towards him. “Hey, what was that?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“No, it sounded like you just stepped over something that, uh... wasn’t regular ground. Wood, I think.”

“Hmm? Guess I must’ve missed it then.” He stopped and took a look behind himself. From what he saw, there didn’t look to be anything different about the surrounding area, though it was rather thick with grass so it wasn’t easy to tell. “I don’t see anything.”

“But... nevermind.”

They continued onward for a good while longer without really going anywhere in particular. Kirby let his mind wander and eventually settled on staring forwards at a fixed angle to see what he could find. Maybe something shiny, or a critter, or maybe even—

“Hey, Kirbs!”

Behind him, Marx had gone ahead and searched around for what he had heard earlier, somehow without the other even knowing. He was kneeling down on a patch of grass and waving his hands up in the air, beckoning for him to come over. The other two hadn’t noticed and were still continuing onwards.

He really didn’t want to leave the other two behind, but he also didn’t want to leave Marx waiting. “Uh, guys!” he called out to the ones still going. Bandana Dee was the only one that noticed. “Can you come over here?” He made a motion to follow, then went to catch up with Marx.

“I think I found something!” he exclaimed as Kirby and Bandana Dee approached.

“What’d you find?” Bandana Dee asked.

“Just take a look at this!” He stuck his hands down, showing off what looked to be a patch of grass.

“I don’t see anything.”

“No, no, you gotta come closer, then!”

The two approached what he was showcasing to see a small wooden panel built into the ground with a handle on its top. It wasn’t a whole lot wider than any of them were themselves.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“It’s a trapdoor! Ooh, I wonder where it leads. Maybe there’ll be something real cool down there.”

“Should we really go down here though?” Kirby questioned. “I dunno, it looks kinda... old, or something. I have a feeling we shouldn’t be checking this place out, cause we don’t know what’s even down there.”

“Well that just gives us all the more reason to look.” The others still hesitated. “Come on, we can bail if things get hairy, but please?”

Kirby and Bandana Dee gave each other a look. Both of them knew what the other was thinking, and they mentally agreed upon the same thing at once.

“I guess...” Kirby prepared to put his hand over the handle. “But you better promise we’re making a break for it as fast as we can if things get into trouble because I really don’t want to have to—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He placed his own hands over the hinge and gave it a pull, but without any movement. “‘Kay, then. Looks like it needs some effort. How ‘bout this!” He grasped it again and lifted himself up, pulling as hard as he could. This time, the door opened slightly then fell immediately back down.

“Need some help with that?”

“No, I’m fine I’ll just—” He failed on another attempt to get it open and fell over on his back. “Okay, maybe I could use some help.”

Kirby walked over to where the other was standing and placed his own hands on the side of the handle. They both prepared to lift it up in tandem, but he stopped them suddenly in their countdown.

“Wait a second! I think it would be best if we have as much strength as we can pulling on this at once.” He motioned for Bandana Dee to come over and help them tug the door out of place. “Ready?” The other two gave an approval. “One, two, three!”

All of them pulled as hard as they could at once, barely managing to keep the trapdoor up from its original position.

“W-woah!” Marx almost lost his balance. “Harder!”

They all struggled to keep upright as they increased the strength of their pulling, slowly managing to lift the hatch. After a few seconds, they all yanked it one last time, topping them all over and slamming the door onto the ground from their side.

“Woohoo! We did it!” Kirby lifted his hands up into the air from a sitting position.

“Let’s just hope all this effort was worth it,” Bandana Dee said after pulling himself back up. “I’m never doing that again.”

“Just have to go in and see, I guess.” Marx got up and stepped towards the hole. “Y’all ready?”

“I guess.” Kirby went over and stopped next to him. “Wait a second, where’s Gooey?”

“Gone, I guess. Won’t be able to say he’s been down here with us, though that’s not much of a thing to brag about anyway.” He looked down into the pit. “Full steam ahead!”

Without hesitation, he placed his hand onto the first rung and let himself down. The remaining two turned to each other with uncertain looks, then started after him.

* * *

Only a single step forwards on the ground and he bumped directly into someone else. Being so dark, it was nearly impossible to tell who it was, though the faint outline of a jester’s hat was a dead giveaway.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Sorry. I can’t see anything in here.” Kirby groped around until he found a wall so he wouldn’t get lost in the darkness.

“Where’s the ladder?” Bandana Dee asked nervously. “I wanna get out of here.”

“But we just got here! Come on, I’m sure there’s something ‘round here to light this place up.”

“Can’t we just come back with a flashlight or something?”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna go all the way home to go grab one, so let’s get searching.”

Kirby waited as the other two walked off further into the blindness. He really wanted to get out of there right now, but there was no way he was going without the others. Just... maybe just call the others over while he still could and climb back out into the woods, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Something like metal clanging sounded softly, followed by a slight grunt.

“What was that?” Marx asked.

“That was me,” Bandana Dee answered. “I think I hit a wall.”

More gentle footsteps from across the area, but Kirby still didn’t budge. “Guys?”

“Yeah?” the other two responded in unison.

“I think we should get out of here soon. There’s no way we’ll be able to find anything without—” He took a small step forwards and accidentally snagged his foot over his own leg, sending him toppling. “Ow...”

“You okay?” Marx quickly wandered around the place, though it didn’t sound like he was getting any closer.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He reached up against the wall to support himself on the way up. “Just tripped over myself, I guess.”

“‘Kay, well be careful. Who knows what might be laying down here.”

“Yeah, well that’s all the more reason for us to—” He suddenly cut himself off as he felt a small protrusion from the wall. With excitement, he felt around to try and find it again. “Wait, I think I found something!”

“Yeah, yeah, what is it? And how’d you find something in this darkness anyway?”

A short bit of fumbling around later and Kirby found exactly what he was looking for. Keeping one hand in place to remember the location, he flicked the switch up, unsure of what it was supposed to do.

From a good distance away, a light flickered repeatedly, showing a dusty table, two seats, and the corner of what was now revealed to be a room. The slightest bit of it was enough to reveal several obstructions of some sort in the path between there and where Kirby stood.

“Woah!” Marx seemed to take a few steps towards the brightness. “What’d you just do?”

“I hit a switch, then that light came on.”

“Well then do it again! On any other switches, I mean, ‘cause they might be just what we need to brighten this place up.”

“Okay...” Kirby felt around the area for anything else to activate, soon finding another just next to the previous one. “Here goes!”

Another light turned on, this time against one of the walls. Bandana Dee was illuminated from under it, and could just barely be seen looking up at it from behind several rows of what looked to be shelves from their shadows.

“Keep at it!”

“Already on it.”

Just a few moments later and Kirby found the next one, and then another. Several lights flicked on throughout the room, revealing metal racks filled with boxes, it looked like, but he wasn’t focused on that at the moment. Soon enough, the entire room was lit up, save for a small patch near one of the corners.

“Boom! That’s all of them. Or at least I think it is.” Kirby walked out into the area. “Now what?”

“We search around, of course.” Marx walked over towards one of the shelves. “Like, look at all this stuff that we’ll never have any idea how to use. Isn’t that at least a little cool?”

“Eh, I guess.” He started to glance around at all of the abandoned supplies lying around, but he was bored before he even knew it. With a sigh, he walked over to the table and decided to see if there was anything else around to inspect besides the equipment.

“Just look at all of this,” Marx could be heard muttering. “It’s all...”

Bandana Dee was up as well, but it looked like he was reaching his limit on how much more he could take. Past one particularly empty shelf, he disappeared behind a corner Kirby thought was the ladder back out.

“Hey!” Bandana Dee called to the others not too much later. “Guys?”

Kirby immediately got up and turned to face his general area. “Hmm?”

“I think you might wanna take a look at this.”

“Does that include me?” Marx whined teasingly.

“Yes, it does.”

“Aww, fine.”

The two made their way to where the last one was standing, which looked to be nothing more than a short hall. Bandana Dee was standing at the end of it, staring at something around another corner with a bit of amazement.

“Look at this.” He pointed towards the branching path as the others neared.

Just in front of him was another room, though not quite as big as the previous one by a good amount. A few tables without much on them were scattered along the walls, but the main point of interest lay in two stone disks piled on top of each other with two poles on opposite edges. The center of the pedestal was empty, but the sight was still an attraction in itself.

Marx didn’t seem to be all that interested in it and instead walked off towards the edges of the room as Kirby and Bandana Dee stood there, wondering at the intricately designed base.

“What do you think it’s for?” Kirby pondered.

“No idea. But it still looks pretty cool, to say the least.”

A bit of silence between the two as Marx rummaged through the mess on one of the tables. After finishing, he returned to the other two.

“Okay, well you guys have fun over here,” he announced, leaving. “Nothing I see lookin’ good, so I’m heading back to the main room.”

Neither made any move to follow. Bandana Dee walked up to admire the structure in place, though Kirby couldn’t exactly see what was so interesting about it. Sure, it was unusual for this to be here—and the rest of this underground site for that matter—but wasn’t it really just a bunch of rock put in a set formation? What was so noteworthy about that? He remained for a short while longer, staring at Bandana Dee’s intense inspection of the framework centered in the room before moving over to the tables to see if there was anything there.

As he had seen earlier, most of the tables were completely empty. All but what looked like one near the back end of the room had nothing on them, so he walked over to examine its contents.

The table was filled with several odd objects, including what looked to be a few hats. In fact, they were the only thing placed anywhere on it besides dust that had collected from probably many years of this facility’s desertion. Digging through a few of them, he found a foil-looking pointed cone, a green, fluffy bag of some sort, and a blue and white striped headband, but one in particular caught his attention. At the bottom of the pile was a large, funny-looking piece of cloth that immediately gave Kirby an idea. He grabbed it out, examined it for a short moment, then put it on his head. As he put it on, a slight feeling of warmth flowed throughout his body.

“Hey Bandana Dee!”

“Yeah?” The boy looked over to where Kirby was standing next to one of the tables. Upon seeing what was on his head, he could barely keep from giggling a little. “You gotta show that to Marx!”

“Did I hear my name called?” came his voice from down the corridor.

“Maybe!” Kirby shouted. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You just wait here.”

He walked over to the hallway, giving Bandana Dee a wink on his way out. A short ways down and Marx was exactly where he expected, admiring some indistinguishable colorful objects placed on the shelves. He tried to stay as quiet as he could, though he couldn’t keep giggles from escaping him. Marx most definitely noticed, but he played it like he didn’t to keep the fun.

“Hey, Marx?” Kirby asked as he approached the other.

“Yeeeeeees?” He spun around on a heel to face the other, who was wearing an nearly identical hat to the one he wore save for the color. “Now hold on just one second here...”

He would’ve continued, had it not been for Kirby letting loose his laughter. There was no way he’d be able to hear through all of it, so Marx waited patiently, occasionally managing out a chuckle of his own.

“Hey, I’m the only jester allowed ‘round here, okay?”

Kirby managed a nod and almost lost his balance. To support himself, he placed a hand on one of the racks, which he quickly retracted as it gave a shock to him.

“Wait, no. Tell you what: You can be the clown, and _I’ll_ be the jester. The perfect duo for days! How’d that sound?”

“Ow...” He looked up from his hand. “It shocked me.” Almost immediately, he let out a small laugh once again.

“Come on, answer me! This is something I need to know!”

There was no response as Kirby lowered himself to the ground, now wholly returned to his amused state.

“Oh no.” Marx took a step to the side and placed a hand to his forehead. “Now how am I supposed to know about my future career? I’ll need to find a new business partner. The two of us could travel around the world, entertaining everybody and making a fortune off of the profits! I’m telling you, this is a missed opportunity!”

“Marx!” he cried out between wheezes. “Stop, you’re making me—”

He was cut off by another round of laughter. For the time being, it was nearly impossible for him to get a word out.

“You know what?” Marx stepped forwards and snagged the jester’s hat off the other’s head. “Gimme that. If you ain’t gonna be using it then there’s no need for you to hold onto it.”

A small chill ran down his body as it was taken off, though in his current state he didn’t even acknowledge it. Kirby looked up to see the hat tossed aside on one of the empty racks nearby. Immediately after, a fairly loud crash sounded from down the hall, followed by complete silence.

“I want out of here!” Bandana Dee dashed out from his location in search of the ladder, which he found quickly.

“I’m getting out, too!” Kirby immediately recovered himself and dashed off after him.

“Oh come on! We were just getting up to the good stuff!” The others paid no mind to him and made their way back outside. “Ugh, fine.”

Marx reluctantly trudged after the other two, then paused for a moment and turned around to see the hat he had tossed on the shelf. Giving a shrug to no one in particular, he stepped back to pick it up, then made his way out to the other two—not in any sort of hurry to leave.

* * *

Another shiver forced him to get back up and head towards the closet for yet another blanket. After opening it up and picking out a random one, he walked back to the couch, picked up all the other sheets laying on top of it, then sat down under them.

“C-can we p-please close the d-door now?”

On the other side of the room was an artificially red-haired boy wearing a short sleeved shirt and shorts. He took a quick glance over at the other—still trembling under all the thick layers—then turned back down to his book.

“Just get another blanket, or something. I’m sure if you get enough of ‘em, you’ll warm up eventually.”

“But this was the l-last one!”

“Oh.” From his position splayed out across an armchair, over the armrests and hanging over the edges, he had no intention of getting up at all and breaking his quite uncomfortable pose. “Okay, fine. Go ahead.”

He got up without taking off the blankets and moved over to the open backdoor, which shone a bright beam of light inside the building, and closed it. Afterwards, he slowly returned and plopped himself back down on the couch.

“Hey, I got question for you”

“Y-yeah?”

“How do you do that? Be so cold all the time, I mean. It’s literally summer time right now, and yet with long pants, a thick jacket, and at least three blankets on you’re still shivering?”

“I... I’m always cold.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but couldn’t make out any words. “Eh, fair enough,” he decided, looking back down to his book.

“If I asked you the s-same question about how you’re so w-warm all the time, would you say the same thing?”

“Yeah, probably,” he replied, not even looking up.

Both remained silent for a while. From outside, a bird could faintly be heard chirping from atop a tree branch. A page turned on the boy’s book, being the only sound that came from inside the building.

“I think... I think I have an idea.” He got up from under the sheets, immediately increasing the intensity of his shaking.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I n-need to get some soap. Maybe a lot.”

“Mmmkay.” The book remained his focus as the other walked out towards the bathroom. “Wait, what!”

He got up from his seat and chased after the other boy, who had already disappeared down the hall.

“Chillz! I’m gonna kill you for this!”

He burst down the hallway and slammed into the door he was looking for, which had already been locked. From inside came a short chuckle.

“Get out of there! You can’t steal all of it!”

“Oh, yes I can.” A short rummaging around through the drawers, which was obviously an effort to taunt him.

“I’m... I’m gonna tell Mom and Dad on you!”

“W-wait, no! Don’t!”

“Oh, what’s this? My feet are moving across the ground, and I can’t control them!”

“You better not. I’ll put it all back, just... please don’t tell on me.”

“Hmm. Let me think about that.” He made a mock thinking gesture, though it wasn’t noticed from behind the door. “Hmm... what should I do?”

The door opened up, revealing an empty handed boy in its place.

“How about just two? Please? It’s all I need.”

He gave it some consideration. “Alright. If I catch you with any more, though, you’re headed straight to the slammer.”

“The what?”

“Nevermind. Just get what you need and let’s go.”

“Yeah. Meet me in the backyard.”

“Yup. See ya’ in a bit.”

He started towards the backdoor to head outside. More likely than not, it’d be another round of his brother’s crazy tests that had been going on for years, at least, but it was still fun to watch nonetheless. Especially on the failed attempts, which were all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Chillz" is in no way affiliated with games about constructing boats of any kind.


	5. Eccentric Entryway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School go boom boom I got some bad news ready for y'all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been over a month and a half since the last update...
> 
> Sure here's like a random chapter outta nowhere—

If there had just been a single spare moment in the eternity of school, when one could simply walk out, past everyone else’s chats and calls, ignoring absolutely any sort of conversation with a single other being... he’d probably take the time to relax in the woods. Sure, it might not be that comfortable, and sure, there could be some awful creatures or insects roaming around, but that didn’t mean he could just let those thoughts just leave his mind, offering them to some other stranger wandering about. And then... the perfect moment, to simply find a perfect tree, and take a perfect nap.

Nothing more than a hope, though. With all the homework and stress that was provided for the school year, it was nothing more than an “if only”. Or maybe it wasn’t even a hope at all, and it was just one of those awkward scenarios that could pop into his mind in the blink of an imaginary eye. One such as the time he imagined himself as a spear-wielding warrior, serving under a great king that held a mighty hammer, of all tools. When his mind was going somewhere, it _really_ got going somewhere...

Oh, was the path really so long? Last time he remembered, it took no more than a couple of minutes from the entrance to the glade, but apparently, it felt like stretching itself out as long as possible this particular time. Either that, or it decided to slow down his perception of time so much that even a task such as his would take longer than the time it’d take to convince Gooey to keep his mouth shut for even a moment. Figuratively and literally.

Speaking of the blue boy, he just so happened to be the only one not to appear with the three others in their sort of meet-up spot. Honestly, he was more glad than anything that the ones already coming were the only ones coming, though he couldn’t exactly say he felt a whole lot else about that. It was just so wrong to think like that... but he was really annoying. Idiotic, absent-minded, whatever. Anything along those lines, and that’d pretty much up that sloppy boy’s character.

Of course that wasn’t nice, but what else was there to distract himself until reaching his destination? Well... his backpack wasn’t awfully heavy from how little time it’d been since the first day of class. And... the trees were quite green. Oh...

Even he didn’t feel like it was that much longer from then that he made it to the others, already chatting between each other on their makeshift bench. If they were really going to continue using this place, couldn’t they at least find something more suitable to relax on?

Marx, of the two, was most certainly the best for his “plan”. Not really a plan at all, but he had no idea what else to call it. Actually, he hadn’t even considered doing it in the first place, but his mind liked to say that he was all along, and he didn’t quite know if he could believe that or not.

The so-called jester jumped slightly upon spotting the bandana kid in front of him, having appeared without even a sound. “Woah, hey! Ya’ can’t go... uh, trans-fyooshing or something like that in front of me outta nowhere!”

Despite his expression, Bandana Dee somehow remained calm through the other boy’s intentionally over-exaggerated venting. If he had focused on it hard enough, he probably could have laughed at it, though it certainly wouldn’t be appreciated. No flat-out annoyance would arrive, more so just sarcasm and teasing.

“Marx, do you even have a clue what that means?”

He decided to wait until the other two were finished with their soon-to-be way off track conversation before sitting down. It really wouldn’t make a difference, but he simply felt too shy to go in between them while they were busy with themselves.

“‘Course I do. Studied all about it back in my ol’ cl—eh, I mean jestering school.”

Kirby stared for a moment, probably trying to hold in a bit of laughter. How he even managed to make a giggle out of anything was beyond anyone’s comprehension.

“If you’re gonna make a joke, at least don’t go too out of hand with it. It just gets boring, then.”

“But I’m not!"

“This ‘school’ literally disproves your point!”

“Yeah, ‘course.” He held up a finger and prepared to continue, only leaving his mouth open in utter defeat. With a sigh, he readjusted his hat and set his arms at rest. “Alright, fine. But don’t think that’s a victory in your books. I got... stuff in my... uh, things to get back at you with. Yeah. Just you wait.”

“I didn’t even—” His speech was automatically halted upon noticing the mocking smirk on the other boy’s face. With an awkward fold of his arms, he returned the gesture. “Ooh, now you’ve got it!”

“Aww, I wasn’t even trying that time.”

Was it really that difficult for them to acknowledge he was standing there, or were they simply too deep in their ‘such important’ conversation regarding what counted as funny or not? Well, looked like the one chance he may have ever had at finding a true friend of his own was taken by an aspiring jester, which he really didn’t know what to think about. On one hand, a clown had taken the rights to acquaintanceship with one filled of energy, but on the other... maybe that was the only side to that, really.

Still patiently waiting for their words between each other to conclude at last, he turned down and checked his heels for no reason other than to please himself for a moment. Clean, as usual...

“‘Ay, Dee!”

Ah, finally.

“Cha’ doin’ standin’ around like that? You sitting with us or what?”

From his perspective, it looked as though it was already pretty crowded on the bench, though Kirby scooted over to accommodate, letting him sit on the end, luckily. It would’ve been fine if he’d sat in the middle, but it just felt nicer when he wasn’t surrounded by any more people than necessary.

“So, Marx,” Kirby began upon the last of their trio taking his seat.

“Whaddya want?”

“How many shortenings and contractions are you even able to fit into a single sentence?”

Marx turned his head toward the path to school, proudly placing a fist over his chest and glancing upward slightly. “A whole, whole lot.”

With the tone he used, it sounded like he would’ve continued, accepted the tacit challenge, or at least followed with a question of his own, but he instead led the way to silence. The only sound came from a bird tweeting off in the distance and something patting along the grass equally distant. It was more tranquil than anything for the bandana boy, though it was a much different case for the questioner. Once, then twice, he tried to stifle his giggle, but it was so apparent that the other two were left staring at him within an instant. Between all the attention he was receiving and the sudden cutoff from Marx just a moment ago, he couldn’t hold in his emotion and let out another of his signature laughs.

The other two managed to remain calm despite the slight annoyance from the pink boy, one simply because he was the one who made the joke in the first place, the other because of his lack of experience communicating overall. What was even so funny to kids his age about silence in general was beyond a mystery.

Until Kirby was finished laughing to himself about the absolute hilarity over that last event, the other two would be waiting and waiting for him to finish. Which, judging by previously, could take a long while, or just a few moments. It really didn’t depend on how funny the joke was at all—it was just about how he felt about it. Just in the past day, or two, perhaps, the three had seen some idiot kid actually attempt to see if a banana was as slippery as some really claimed it was, and of course it ended out horribly. That didn’t stop two of them from getting a chuckle out of it, but Kirby, being the helpful boy he was, immediately rushed over to help. Really, an odd experience for that Chilly boy, he could recall their name was.

His mind snapped back into place with a slight tapping on his shoulder and a mildly annoyed look on Marx’s face. The other boy had been trying to grab his attention while the last was distracted, though with little luck as he was completely lost in thought.

“Alrighty, Bandee,” he whispered. Bandy? “I gotta let out the secret to stealing Kirbs’ cake when he ain’t looking. So what’cha gotta do is—”

“Woah, hold on!”

Marx immediately snapped back to his original position upon receiving his intended result.

“You can’t just go stealing my cake! How’d you even know I liked it so much!”

“That’s a lil’ secret between him and I.” He gave a wink to the quite confused Bandana Dee, contemplating whether it was really any better having Marx as an accomplice any more than Gooey. There was still his little... situation, of course, and he did turn out to be invaluable in assisting with that.

Kirby immediately snapped his head over to the “secret holder”, who actually didn’t have a clue what the jester was talking about. “What’d he say?”

“He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Marx, you tell me how you knew that!”

The jester boy shook his head mockingly. “Nuh uh. I don’t wanna.”

“Okay, how do I make you ‘wanna’, then?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“How can I make you tell me?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes! Tell me already!”

The two sat staring at each other for a moment, though Kirby’s bright hair was more than enough to distract him from their draw. Say, now that he thought about it, wasn’t there another kid with hair like his? Only, longer, of course.

“So you’re asking me to tell you how to make me want to tell you how I knew you like cake.”

“Yeah.”

Marx set up a thinking pose on his face, probably considering what to do after completing his act. Even Bandana Dee had to admit, it was going pretty great so far. Maybe even a little humor might arrive in his favor, after it was all well and done.

“Then I guess that’s too bad.”

“But why?”

“Because I don’t wanna tell you.”

“Marx!”

Kirby gave him a playful shove on the shoulder, though being so short, and so close to the edge, it sent him toppling over the side and onto the dirt patch of a floor. The mistake was immediately recognized, and both were staring at each other within the next second or so.

“Youch! What’d you do that for?”

“Sorry! I was just...”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.”

A hand was offered to help him up, though Marx got up on his own and back on the bench. He didn’t even bother to wait for Kirby to scoot over to where he just sat a moment ago—the seat was immediately taken up again by the awfully sore one of their bunch. In a moment, he went from his hands on his knees, then bobbing his back slightly, then back to rest. Really, what he was expected to do next was probably out of even Kirby's reach of knowledge, which was saying something, despite how little they’d known each other for.

“Any of y’all—” He immediately cut himself off for no apparent reason other than what had just occurred. A quick glance around was all it took to explain that he was already back to normal, quite the feat for anyone his age. “What time is it?”

Kirby took a quick gaze at his watch, kicking the log softly in alternating beats with his heels. “Looks to be about time to get going. Better not be late, this time.”

“Whaddya mean ‘this time’? You been late already or somethin’?”

“No, but almost! The two of us got in class just as the bell rang just the other day because we lost track of the time. That was the day we found those apples.”

“Can’t we wait just a lil’ bit longer? Still time, right?”

“You can stay here, but Bandana Dee and I are heading to school right now like responsible kids.” Not like he would’ve objected, but alright. “We’re not going to be late again.”

There was a short moment as Marx considered whether he’d really be following or not. The fact that there’d be no one else to mess with was probably enough to convince him, as without, he’d be bored out of his mind within moments. With nothing more than a shrug and readjusting of his hat, he got up and started out toward their collective destination without them, hands in his pockets out of boredom.

Well, if they weren’t traveling along with him on the way to school, that was alright. It really wasn’t nice to say it, but Marx was fairly annoying at times. Not as much as Gooey, but still quite a bit. Best not to ponder on how much the others had an impact on him, though. He had all the time in the world while they were walking. Actually, just until they made it to class, then it was back to being bored to death, and then revived at recess and lunch and bored twice more.

Kirby invited him over and started forward on the path Marx took. Oh, Kirby was alright. A little too loud or energetic at times, but definitely more tolerable than the other two. It was hard to even consider Gooey a friend, and as a matter of fact, it was probably impossible to after giving it such little thought. He just decided to pop up and tag along a few times, and that was about it. But about the pink boy, not the blue one. Same outfit every day, it looked like. Pink sweater, blue jeans, and same style of pink hair, all day, every day. As for what couldn’t be changed—blue eyes and a slightly short stature. About his own height, maybe even to the point. And a heavy blush on his cheeks, now...

Was that always there, or was he just remembering wrong?

* * *

The sole fact that it was so dark was the only reason it was safe to be carrying out the procedure in the first place. For one, he was naturally quite dark in attire, of course, and the general blackness made it more difficult to trace him overall. Not like anyone had a clue who he was in the first place, but best be following orders rather than making up new ones. He was nowhere near experienced enough to be taking his own lead for even a day.

His victim whimpered once more, ever so desperately begging to be let free from his invisible chains that attached to what was essentially nothing more than a dusty basement. Why anyone had ever decided to simply forget the place existed at all was more than adequate in his favor, given his intentions, and it also just so happened to connect to pretty much the rest of the school through a series of boards and whatever other things made up buildings. Plaster? That word sounded a little familiar...

“Please, stop!” the red-headed boy cried out. “I don’t even know you!”

“That’s for the best, then.” He waved his arms around in no particular formation, obviously with no intent to actually do anything. The other boy shivered once more at the enigmatic motion. “Now hurry up, and I’ll keep my end of the bargain.”

“B-but—”

“Quiet!”

Another whimper emerged, this time as fearful as could be. Did it really take so long for those outsiders to perform a simple task? Was a threat really not enough to get the job done, or were they simply too stubborn? Surely even the slightest risk of being harmed was enough to convince a youngling like this one to follow orders, though it may have been his own appearance that prevented him from doing so. If one didn’t know any better, they’d probably mistake him for a kid as well, which wasn’t entirely wrong. He was young, yes, but he certainly wasn’t a mere child. He was... one of them. One of many, and nothing more.

Without a clear intention to do anything besides cry and whine from the other boy, he let out a sigh of annoyance. As much as he wanted to pull out the magic and set the boy down right then and there, he was under strict orders not to do so. It really would have been a whole lot easier to just make the kid set some sparks out already with a little bit of that power his kind held, yet the simpler alternative was instantly denied. As to why, he had no clue. It may have been that there was something special about the kid, which would have explained why he was chosen in the first place. According to his own insight, there was nothing that stood out, so he was clueless to that as well.

“Get going already!” he shout-whispered so to not be heard by any that weren’t supposed to.

The boy whined and bundled himself up against the wall, slowly backing up into the corner with slight nudges of his shoes. The only exit was blocked, so he hadn’t a clue as to what was trying to be done.

“No! I don’t want to!”

“The deal’s off, then?”

He remained in silence, staring somewhere off behind him. Either the only thing he was physically capable of doing in a pressured situation was complaining, or he was an outlier from the other students. It’d be nice to believe the latter, in case he was ever sent on another task involving another of the kids.

The boy sniffled, but didn’t change his focus from the dusted wall. “What am I doing?” he almost whispered.

“Take this, click the switch, and set it down.” He held out some sort of colored stick with a basic design—that of a short handle connected to a longer tube—though it was difficult for even him to spot its contrast against the near pitch-black floor, coming as a result of the poor lighting conditions.

The redhead slowly picked himself up, nervously climbing back to his old stature in a few seconds or so. Only a few paces ahead of him was the other boy, holding what he assumed was simply another of his everyday instruments. Really, even he himself didn’t know what had been tinkered with it, though if it was going to be enough to engulf the entire facility, then it must have been a fairly large modification.

He waited patiently for the other boy to approach and grab the tool, though the only motion he made was of awkward breathing and a fidgeting of his hands. Not much was going to be done like this, so he’d have to take matters into his own hands if anything was to get done without being spotted.

The tool was shoved into the other boy’s hands before he even got a chance to react to the approach. It looked to be that his only options were to cooperate or face the nonexistent threat, and the fact that he was being so stubborn about the entire situation was quite baffling. There was no one to help him, no items to assist in his escape, no powers on him to push past his captor—was it really that difficult to follow orders like he himself had so often?

“Go.”

Tears formed in his eyes as he moved over to the suitable corner of the room, instrument in hand. At least he was making the effort to stifle it as much as possible, though it was still quite obnoxious anyway. Slow steps were made at first in an attempt to stall the inevitable action, though the quick pair from behind gradually sped him up until they were both at a regular pace.

Upon reaching their destination, the boy crouched down, lowered the contents of his hand toward the odd stick-like object on the floor, and panted softly with much fear. A few times, he switched it between hands, adjusting his footing, though the other boy was certainly not amused.

“Do it.”

He panted a couple times more, then slowly turned up to face the one standing above him. Tears were more than noticeable in his current state, even despite the darkness of the room.

“Why did you make me do this?” he whispered trembly.

“I’m taking orders, and nothing more. Now get going.”

Ever so slowly, he returned his focus back to the start point once more, though again, it wouldn’t help him. With the dark and serious tone of the boy behind him, he was more than easily convinced to press the switch, watching the colorful flame emerge with a slight click out of the nozzle. He was slightly impressed at the show, though a short shove on his back was enough to set him back to the objective. Much, much reluctance and hesitation later, the lighter was lowered down to the kindling that would start it all, and finally, with many tears and shoves against his shoulder, he let go of the grip, allowing the flame to immediately spread along the first beam. His body immediately jumped back, and luckily for him, the darker boy had already moved away to accommodate.

The even slightest amount of luck all ended with his bounce. Before even able to turn around or let out another sob at what he’d done, a dark substance slammed atop his head, almost immediately knocking him unconscious. He put up a good struggle, shaking his head and flailing his arms in an attempt to remain in control, though whatever magic that had possessed his body was much too strong, and he fell over on his back within a few moments.

His instructions were to keep both of them safe in the end, but at the moment, he just wanted to get out himself. With nothing more than a quick glance at the now lifeless body on the ground, he dashed out toward the ladder, hoping that no one would just happen to be waiting on the other side of the trapdoor. It wasn’t very likely, but the possibility still remained. Oh, and the other boy would be fine. Possession was a powerful tool.

That last question by him, though... even he pondered for a moment on what he’d just done. Orders were orders, and disrespecting them would lead to punishment, but... something about this situation didn’t settle right. Why wasn’t he ordered to do this himself? That boy... he was just an innocent bystander, and... he’d done nothing wrong. And the end result, too. Sure, the overlords knew what was best, but...

Something wasn’t right about what he’d just done, even he had to admit.

* * *

A sickle, perhaps?

No, no, quite inconvenient. A... mace? Too common. Sure, not as common as a standard blade, for say, though it was still quite often that one was seen in an armored hand. And besides, there was already another that was unreasonably interested in the weapon, anyway. The helmet would be nice, too, but there’d need to be something unique about it to make it stand out. Nothing more than that, just to be different from others.

As to why he felt like seeking some sort of unconventional weapon to utilize not once in his life... he just wanted to change things up. Sure, a sword was awfully common, and probably fairly practical, too, though the mere fact that it was so common was enough to drive him away. A few others had already decided on them as well, so it really would be inconvenient for there to be four sword-wielders in their little squad. Besides those, though, the others had decided on staying at least a little different from each other. He wasn’t all too great at remembering the exact details, but there had to have been one who’d have preferred a trident, of all things. Nobody else seemed to mind his odd choice of imaginary weaponry, so what could go wrong if he decided on something else, too?

Oh, where were they? It’d been a while, yet there hadn’t been a single sign of any of them. They were just there that morning, he even saw them clear in his own eyes, so what could be taking them so long? None were exactly forgetful and even the most likely contender for having that trait would only wander around for a minute or two before seeing the others, then remember what their plans were for the day.

One good scan of the blacktop later, and he’d just about had it. Not a single one was in plain sight, so he’d have to find something else to occupy himself until they arrived. Or until the bell rang, though hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Welp... how about which one of the... six or something was the most likely to forget? If even, but just setting that aside for a moment. Of course it wouldn’t be Meta—when he gave his word, he stuck to it no matter what. Not once in the entirety of their sort of friendship had he ever lied to another of the group, or even anyone at all, or faked his intentions. His attitude reflected on that quite well, too. Certainly not one for slacking off, and especially in group projects. If one kid decided not to pull their weight... they wouldn’t be caused any physical damage, of course, but they’d be in for one serious beatdown of words headed their way. And a bad grade, of course. Can’t have fair work if it’s not justice served to everyone involved.

The closest four to Meta were awfully close to friends in everyone else’s perspective, though upon entering their friend circle, one could see that that was most certainly not the case. Even he himself had some trouble distinguishing exactly what the relation between the four and Meta was, and much time later, he still wasn’t entirely sure. Friends did seem like a suitable description, though none were too keen on admitting it. Well, except Javelin. He was all over the place, both figuratively and literally, and occasionally declared them as friends, allies, or even rivals, a couple of times. Sometimes he was bouncing around, a wild grin on his face, and other times, he was just another ordinary kid. His speech slurred out of nowhere, he tripped and picked himself back up like nothing happened, and he always insisted on presenting how he was the fastest spinner of the bunch. It wasn’t like anyone else was competing for that spot, and for good reason, too. All but him would get dizzy and collapse after a moment or two in the movement. How he even managed to do anything related to the sort—whirling on his heel without collapsing, an immunity to dizziness, and even the ability to hop about in the motion—was beyond anyone’s knowledge. Probably even his own, for that matter.

The last of the two—Sword and Blade—were so close to each other that they might as well be considered the same person. Sword and Blade, Sword n’ Blade, they’d been called everything that involved the two names. Quite a few years ago, some had even referred to them as “Sam and Erin” or something in the sort. As to why, none had a clue. Even those two admitted they had never been called that in their entire life, which was quite odd. Looking back, it was probably just someone trying to be funny, as their humor was much, much different back then than their current state. Or maybe it was just that they resembled the two aforementioned people. A quite likely case, if it wasn’t for the former.

Not a single one of them was any more likely than another to lose track of plans for the day, so he was still left wondering as to what they could even be doing at the moment. None would even consider making new plans for the time being, either. Or, actually, Javelin might have wandered off or something. He was so wild that it was impossible to tell whether he’d be assuming a battle stance against the wind or have a casual conversation with the most random of strangers next. That still didn’t explain where the others were, though.

Say, that tree did smell quite nice. That lovely scent of grass, and... whatever trees smelled like. One whiff of it was enough to allow for a nice nap to be taken, but doing so at the time was the worst possible idea he could come up with. There were so many things wrong with that that he didn’t even need to consider to be going against it. But... he could at least close his eyes for a moment, take in the bountiful aroma, placed within the aura of the two trees, and rest his legs for a moment until they arrived. If they weren’t around, then that was fine. He could take in all the sweet, sweet particles of... smoke? Was that smoke?

It disappeared within an instant, and soon enough, he was right back to where he just was—lazing about against the trunk of a good-sized tree. If they didn’t want to come, then fine. The shade would protect him, and only him from the harsh beatings of the sun and...

Were those kids screaming? Okay, okay, nap time can wait, if there were others screaming, something was definitely wrong. Very, very wrong.

A quick open of his eyes revealed several kids running away from the main building in his peripheral vision. All of them—big kids, slow kids, awkward kids. Some were tripping over themselves as they ran, which he probably would have been chuckling at if the situation wasn’t so dire. The fact that no one was helping them up was rather disheartening, as well. Even if the impending danger wasn’t enough to reach them from their positions, it wasn’t right to let them fall on their faces and get completely ignored as everyone dashed away.

He knew action needed to take place in his own hands... yet he couldn’t make himself move. The fact that... someone might still be in the building... it was terrible to think of the possibility. He needed to move, like all the others would... even Trident would be out and about assisting as many as could be.

Meta was easily spotted, in a fairly empty area from everywhere else. Already, he was crouching along the ground, taking the hands of a few and lifting them up into the air. There were far too many to help each individual one to his fullest extent, though that was alright. All were more than capable of moving along on their own, so long as they were up on their feet.

One girl that he usually held a long sort of grudge against was on the ground, having seemingly injured her knee. She struggled, over and over again, merely attempting to get back upright so she could escape the blaze that didn’t exactly pose much of a threat at the moment. It was still safe to be fleeing anyway, and Meta quickly realized. No matter how much he hated another student, he knew that everyone deserved to be safe in such a dangerous situation. In a matter of moments, he was at her side, helping her limp over to the relative safety of the grassy patch he himself sat on.

Susanna, he thought it was, was sat over at the tree opposite his own. Her face obviously expressed how much pain she was in at the moment, though it also showed another obvious feeling that she didn’t even try to hide. Clutching her knee tightly in an effort to relieve the pain as much as possible, she stared off at Meta as he continued searching for someone else in need of assistance. Most others were more concerned with the event that had unfolded in front of their eyes, or the panic of each other, but she had to have been one of the few outliers. Her face instead revealed admiration of his brave feat, and a certain approval of his attire. For her to be the one thinking about that... quite something he’d never have expected. Or anyone would have, really.

As he continued to stare on in a state of disbelief and shock and the inferno that had consumed the entire school by that point, many continued their escape to the safety of the premises’ outskirts. Teachers and students alike made their way out as fast as they possibly could, and luckily, not a single one was to be left behind. All that could be done until any sort of help arrived was to wait, staring helplessly at the disaster that had swiftly engulfed the entire school.

* * *

Once, he checked down the short hall, then it was immediately back behind the corner. Clear, clear... but he needed to be certain. Any other individual that remained on the grounds would most certainly dislike his presence, and with one thing leading to another, he’d get sent home, at best. He’d be lucky to not even receive any sort of chastisement for remaining where he stood now. But of course, sneaking was just his skill—he’d be alright. Not one ever saw him coming, whether he was doing it intentionally or not. Some gave it a laugh afterward, others acted annoyed, but usually they were surprised at how he managed to do it. He’d never revealed his secret, no matter how much pleading others provided, but the truth was, he was just born with it. There was no practice in it—merely skill and dumb luck most of the time.

Once more, he peeked out, hid back, then repeated his procedure, and he finally made his move. When he could finally meet up again with all but no one, he’d have the bragging rights to his incredible accomplishment, especially for his age. They’d question how he did it, they’d marvel at his wondrous idea of doing this in the first place. And then... he’d be able to reveal what had truly happened, all like his one hero... Apparently, no one really looked up to the marvelous Spynum except himself, but that was alright. Even if there weren’t any others to discuss crime or mystery with regarding the sort of detective, he’d make do on his own. It was more than fine, really. If someone found out he’d even gone as far so to place the nickname over himself, stuck for years and years from the past... well, there would be his greatest mystery of how to escape all the humiliation to follow.

Upping his fedora and adjusting his jacket many sizes too large, he continued down, searching for anything that would even prove to be mildly interesting regarding the case. It was a miracle he happened to be attending the school in the first place, as it just happened to provide the prime opportunity for him to search around to his liking with minimal risk of being caught. The fact was, though, there were so many places to search—classrooms, faculty-only doors, and whatever other rooms might be lying around in a school like his own, he hadn’t a clue.

Down into the first room, his hat was lowered just the slightest to his audience of shelves and drawers. It was more of a stylistic choice, really, even though no one was expected to be observing his wandering. He just happened to like the way it covered the upper half of his eyes—just like the master himself. And speaking of, investigations weren’t all a detective could turn out to be. Not only did he solve cases every now and then, there were several other miraculous feats only one with much experience could ever dream to perform. Some were less... practical in widespread situations, even he had to admit. The most prominent of the bunch—also happening to be the most notable and skillful, in the young follower’s ideology—was the high proficiency in performing with ranged weapons, especially those that involved arrows. Arrows were long outdated, sure, but put them in just the right situations, and there was a threat that even in itself knew how effective it could be.

Most of the room’s contents were nothing more than to be expected. Really, he had no idea what could be found in what looked like a personal office, if that was even the term, if anything more than files and... more files. And pens, and paper, and other general office utensils. Well... things weren’t starting out too well, and it might take a little while to find anything of interest. No matter, though, as that won’t prevent his determination in succeeding in finding anything... somehow related to the fire.

Without even bothering to check the entirety of the room, he slapped the file cabinet’s last drawer shut and started toward the hallway’s entry point. There weren’t even any visible scars in the entire area, and that alone was enough to prove just how difficult it would be to find something. How it even managed to drop all traces of its blazing inferno was beyond his knowledge, and probably anyone’s for that matter. But alright, then. Nothing would make him give up.

Immediately upon opening the door out, he realised several things—of course the most obvious being that he’d been far too careless sneaking around. Though immediately shriveled up as he noticed the figure standing before him, the others informed him that he had finally reached his golden opportunity, and probably wouldn’t be able to catch it up even once more in his entire life. On the converse, it also told of how his current status wasn’t exactly helping on his best first impression, but he’d have to make do with what was provided.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asked with the signature face that all his fans had come to know. “This isn’t the place for you. Go home.”

So... the one and only... had come to investigate this case, of all? In all honesty, he didn’t know whether to be honored to be a member of the facility of the investigation site, or saddened that his one hero’s first words to him were in explanation that he wasn’t welcome in the area. Well.. it was the investigation site, and really, what could a kid like himself do to help? Get him a coffee? Yeah, right, like he’d even be given the opportunity.

The deep voice was repeated for his ears, and within a few moments, he was back out in the hall, now sagging out in the opposite direction of his arrival. It was nice he even got to see him in person, as well as being the only person in the vicinity to act as his observer. If he’d even had been a little more cautious, he might have been able to record a few “notes” regarding the owner of his general attire. Of course, judging by previous expeditions, he probably would have been caught anyway, though it would have at least been a little more time in observation.

“Hey, kid?”

He turned around sadly to look at the person who had ruined his expectancy in an instant. What’d he want, now?

“I applaud you for making it in here without getting caught. Not exactly easy, especially for a youngster like yourself.” If he hadn’t heard those last words, it would’ve been merely an illusion, but a tip of the hat was received for himself, and himself only, just as he’d seen so many times before. “Take care, and don’t go snooping around somewhere unless you got the right to do so.”

For a moment, he stared forward, having zoned out of reality at the words just spoken, though a quick tap of the wall was enough to snap him back. Giddy with excitement at the compliment—at least, it was in his mind—he dashed off to the doors leading outside, letting his coat flow in the nonexistent breeze behind him. This... this was something to remember for a long, long time.

It would be wise to take the advice and just go home, and he didn’t even bother coming up with any sort of rebuttal to attempt to convince himself to continue searching around. If the suggestion, made by the marksmen himself, was presented to the eager boy, then he’d sure be taking it. Though, regarding their extremely brief meetup, he did have to wonder if his own outfit was enough to discomfit his audience... hopefully not, was all he could say.

* * *

Wow... just wow...

What could have possibly happened to... to cause this mess? Last he recalled, it wasn’t so messy, so’d a tornado hit or something? There were all those weird things he had no idea how to use, and maybe one of them just happened to be activated when the three were playing around with them, and then cut to a day or so later for whatever abomination this was. So... what could’ve been the culprit for this... this monstrosity, that was...

He couldn’t even bear to admit what it was, it was so horrible. It of course needed to be fixed up right away, but that’d mean something even more horrible that he also didn’t want to admit. Because... it meant...

He’d have to clean up after someone. Whatever had gone ahead and decided to knock over the chairs in the corner of the room was such a cruel, despicable being that it didn’t even deserve to exist in this world. Unless Kirbs had been careless without him realizing. In that case, he’d like to take back all he just said and change it up so it was a more delightful wish. Sure, they were still a little mediocre with their relationship to call themselves “best friends” as he’d already heard, but he was still an alright guy. Not quite as much as a party pooper as Bandana Dee, but still alright. That latter fact proved to be a problem at certain times, especially considering how they’d have to manage for the time being, but he was manageable.

Well, best just get the work over with, then it was time to get back out and about, where Kirby would no doubt be stalking him from some unreasonable location in the middle of the woods, ready to explain how he just wanted to meet up for a moment or two. His mindset was along the right track if he was trying to get the three of them closer together, but oftentimes it was more than a little much for his intentions. Of course, he couldn’t help himself—the poor boy was too focused on staying on good terms with each and every one of his three friends that he was too busy to even consider how much free time they each had. Oh, right, there was Blobby, too. He kind of just... existed. Was more than odd, but still managed to weave his way into their little friend group. Somehow.

Oh, fine, he’d have to stop procrastinating with the chairs and go through the agonizing process of sitting them upright. Fine. But if something had come along and knocked the chairs—and only the chairs—over, without causing a single other trace of destruction... he... he really hadn’t a clue. If going to the effort to make a mess, why not just go all out? Adding to that, why also make it an effort to break as little as possible?

Well, that was quite the experience. Four or something chairs, he wasn’t counting, all sat back up in the very extremely minor chance that they’d ever decide to come back to this place. The pink boy would be the first to say no, they shouldn’t be snooping around there, and Bandana Dee probably wouldn’t be too keen on the idea, either. Fine, then. Both were more of a hindrance than anything when he was trying to snoop around himself, and they’d continue to be whining little snobs if they ever decided to return. Oh, right, Blobby was just a no. No chance he’d ever be coming.

Eh, with all that nonsense at the school, maybe he could just get a short moment to rest his legs. No one else around, and no one else appearing to be around, so why not? Get a bit of time to reflect on absolutely nothing and stare at a wall until he felt like moving again. There’d also be plenty of time to come back again and again to sit down and laze about for a while.

The chairs were much less than comfortable, but he’d make do. Just the right positioning of the seat and his legs, and he could stretch them out perfectly. Just so he’d be able to feel his legs provide that odd feeling when stretched after a while of compression, though it was enjoyable. Relaxing, even. Why the others wouldn’t consider making this place their “hangout” was beyond him—it had everything. Chairs... okay, that was it. Still better than a log, though. Actually, on second thought, the log was better than the chairs, but hey, this place was actually indoors.

Only a moment in, and it was already getting boring. Alright, then, fine. He’d just make do again. To accommodate, he’d perform the ultimate move for passing time when he was in a quiet place—staring. Staring blankly at a wall, or the sky, or anything still. In this case it’d be the wall, unless he decided to stand up, take the chair up the ladder and outside, and set it on the ground so he could stare at the sky. Quite a practical procedure, he had to admit.

The wall was just how he remembered it—bricks or something, in that dark tone. Even darker with the flickering light, but that was okay. Each flash was enough to reveal to him how old and dusty this place really was, with dust and more dust littered around everywhere. And then there happened to be some sort of graffiti or something. ‘Landia Was Here’ it said. Whoever that “Landia” was, probably was the one who made the slight mess in the first place. At least they didn’t arrive solely to knock over a couple of chairs and call it a day.

Well, that experience was short-lived. He couldn’t make himself zone out for even a moment, so time to go searching out for something else. Like those hats, maybe. Kinda neat, he had to say. And all that other stuff was getting a little boring to marvel at. Hats it was, then.

For a few moments, he started out toward the main room in search of the table he searched for, only to soon remember it was in that room with the large base. Whoops. Not long later, he was at his destination, standing just before the plethora of odd headwear randomly placed in the already odd place. As to why someone would go about littering the place with spare hats... that was anyone’s guess, but that “someone” wasn’t there, so they wouldn’t mind a jester having a bit of fun.

Oh, there were just so many to choose from. There was a headband-looking thing, a baggy green hat that was pretty much a bag from how baggy it was, some odd yellow helmet thing that he had no idea how to even describe. The other jester hat was gone from his own act of theft last time, but he had no idea what to even do with it. At that point, it was more of just taking up room in their home. It served as a little tiny blanket, though, which was at least something.

One moment in, and he was bored yet again. Well, if no one else was around, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do. Really only with the hats, too. All the other stuff was just boring or too complex for him to figure out how to make use with. Time to go home, then. For quite a while, too. That situation at school was a rather odd circumstance, especially considering the aftermath.

Past the strange base, used for nothing in particular, and he soon found himself back at the ladder. He should probably turn off the lights if he wasn’t going to be back for a while. Someone might get suspicious seeing a light in the ground otherwise.

With one last look at the mysterious basement, he left a mental goodbye for until he returned, then switched off all the lights. All with the sweep of one arm because why not? Turned it awfully dark, just as he’d remembered it when Kirbs bumped into him that one time. Oh, he’d never, ever forget that. All that was left was to go out, and possibly close the hatch for safe measure.

Upon stepping onto the first rung of the ladder, footsteps emerged from above, sending a great shock down his body. Uh oh... they better not find out he’s there. Slowly, they approached, inching closer and closer until he could almost recognize the odd walking pattern of the blue boy he’d gotten to learn in only a few days. At least, he thought that’d been what it was. From only the sound, it was impossible to tell, but luckily, they made way for the silence of the woods shortly after. That was a little too close—best to just get going already.

Up the ladder, out the hatch, and he escaped the pitch blackness of the tiny realm down below, into the wonder of the trees. He gave a quick look down into the hole to remain certain, and sure enough, not a speck of light could be seen down below. Good, good, nothing to worry about. That hatch, though... more of a problem. Eh, it’d probably be fine if he left it open for a few days, or weeks, or however long he’d be returning.

And now, it was time to make the journey back home, where he’d keep the news of his little expedition a secret. Nothing his... his, er... roommate needed to know. They were roommates, just roommates, nothing more, nothing less, and he refused to call them anything else. Especially not that... thing... he’d called the two of them a couple of times before. Called ‘em... ugh, why did he have to look back on it?

He’d be returning home to the person he’d, only a couple of times, thought of as his “brother”. Oh boy, what’d he been thinking?


	6. Polar Perfectionists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah holy poop this thing is back
> 
> I promise, next chapter will keep this update schedule. Expect (at absolute minimum) a half a year delay and this thing'll be continued before I know it.

_Account Begin - Ok!_

Footsteps approached, minds whizzing to and by, past and supplemented of uncertain franticality—origin, if any, undetectable. Quick repetitions due to self, then another body of relatively equal size exerted unequivalent force of great shock, comparable to that of unnoticed interruption of static against earthly, natural constructs of diminutive size. Silent by speech, the outer one thrashed the layering hindering progress to unobserved destination, then voiced, a sound.

“‘Ay, uh, you there?”

Twice, a knocking lured the bipedal being’s head to a lean, then soon, a reply back in accurate rehearsal of bare flesh against unsturdy metal. Thrice more, knuckles bounced against the wall, then neared another set of five knocks, and a step closed. Action taken.

...uncertainty?

Out... certain. Destination still, subject unaffected, environment passive.

A metal plate no taller than half the body’s upright stature shyed back through intervals of young, male expression. Once, twice... thrice... it stopped. Revealed, a disembodied lower forearm showed beneath the short opening, its thumb greeted upward for its company. Noiseless, the outer one replied the same, hand stuck inside, and crouched, nudged forward piece by piece. Each downing of the shoe brought forth a subtle crunch, just under a pair of hands’ clap in audiblity.

Hushed, hurried whispers. Screeches arrived of the surface of before, trapping both others behind. One foot stamped against the ground in view for moments—soon to be obscured, according to bases. Engagement necessary.

Out... certain. Step forward, repeat. Continuation. Nearing prismatic bulk of metal, slow pace upkept for displayed effort of subtlety. Whispering...

Halt.

End whispers. Screeches. Malfunction on three—forgettable, focus on the target task. Foot lulled deeper into obscurity by passing moments... hurry? Completion necessary, quicken, pace drew none but unstubbornty, lack of concern for any but necessary declaration ahead. Crunching plops...

Malfunction on three.

“You hear something?” the first voice whispered, barely unstable.

Nothing.

Silence. Continue.

“Just... some battery or... I dunno, something electrical I guess.”

Unregistered voice. Familiar. Continue.

Quieter drops of self, slower movements attempted to bring nothing unnecessary for desirable outcome. Success evident in moments, uncertainty of else to come. Forward, quietly, shrubbery brushed aside, closing in on metal figure, a faint air failed an attempted disruption of control. Satisfaction in quietude, no followers.

Some follower?

Sound close to nonexistent, all was well. Wall barricaded in entirety, though undisruptive in effort. Stolen, two steps, then another pair, one more, closed far enough to brush an end appendage against intended surface. Distance... unknown. Sound... evident? The necessary scope unintended, yet inadequate, more closer.

Enough to place a palm against it, enough for forearm’s tip, dangler’s edge, elbow. Halt. Distance traveled uncertain. All was well, function regardable for immediate task. Sounds, topped with uninterruptible collapses against bottom surface, and none else prevailed beyond echoes of silence, the surfaces distancing, reverberating each passing moment. Close and undetected, all was well.

“Uh...”

“Uh, huh?” the first remarked, hinted with minor disdain.

Steps following, they drew toward the opposite end of the composite. Tapped... thrice? Four times, dropped, lightly, and sound distanced itself from any’s view. Necessary, an interruption could have been... never. Reoccured silence, reoccured self-proclamation, steps prevailed more time between prior and obscured future. Some emptiness of all but wind’s chirps, tougher than before, though by little. Unintrusive, it became after again, and to be disregarded it remained.

Malfunction... regret.

“Eh, just like you said,” the former stated. “Dunno wha’dit’d be, but dunno what else it’d be doin’ to us.”

Quiet, unbreakable will to any but breezes of bodies and blows, and hints lay unexceptional to sense. Intruded to insentience’s habitual doings, yet stiff was all could be maintained. Eyes of exhaustion, brought forth, a gaze of lifelessness ordinary to all few moments ago, both to be shattered upon a merest action by one signal... focus, first. Energy nigh-perfect, else and all optimized for situational awareness.

“You...” Potentialized, an exhale. “Nevermind,” the second continued softly.

“Uh huh, ‘course I’m sure. ‘Cause, y’know, when’ve I been wrong in the past?”

Daunting gaps of breezes and continuation of weeds’ unintentional efforts to the side, noticeable and smooth, unperfected. Particular to grouped, compact bunches of greenery lining the ground, a singular motion played upon all, swaying toward the left, their signal none but unrecognized for growing unease of the relative motionlessness surrounding.

Then it was... undetectable.

“On the first day of school, when you said something about seeing someone in the woods.”

“Well... I’m sure Red Dude’s still out there!” Three seconds passed, give or take an error of margin narrowed to merest milliseconds. “Somewhere!”

Then it was unnoticeable.

“Yeah. And, like...”

“Egg Boy, too. Bet’chu he’s still doin’ somethin’ out there. Somewhere. Out... there.”

Second, another breath recorded.

“I’m hungry.”

“Okay.”

Then it neared, untouched.

“Get yerself something!”

“Okay.”

“Sure we got plenty somewhere back there, just go diggin’ for whatever, see if I care. I’m gonna be uh... doin’... stuff. Yeah. So don’t bother me.”

Then exploded, unwarranted by any but nature’s basic grasp. By first appearance, only, picked upon transmitting gaze... and a sight. Dark, obscured, another knock came of the hand, and two blank eyes directed themselves deep into obscurity, pitched to perfection of penetrating potency, unclear to intent, yet serviceable to otherwise outcome. Momentary, force almost met, but none of the sort could be had.

Halt... unknown... flee.

Take action... flee. To the latening light of spherical, aerobic, unreachable charge, never close as destination, but a guiding force, it could always become. One drop, a crunch, another, repetitions, few initially, then exponentialized in quantity and frequency, dashing toward command for none personalized to disobey. An almost loosening of stability, a malfunction on three, spurted away before notice could be uncovered by the shadowy figure just before, abandoned for indefinite lack of exposure.

Soon to come, a true fall... but enough energy to prevent such a doing rested in capability. Eternities passing of undetected following, such only by self’s deepness cast over the ground itself, caused and obeyed so long, differentiated by elevation and sometimes style. Perfect, for soon in other shade, toward a dash under expansive foliage, far beneath a star’s reign of brightness, where a lone pair could step by without traces of concern, a deep red jacket could properly seek the quiet refuge it’d held so long already.

* * *

Oh, fine, of course. Exactly what he’d had in mind with the question asked, perfectly fine, cold wasn’t an issue, and thirst was one more than welcome with, sure, just go ahead and ask again, not like it wasn’t so easy to just ignore it so early on, just head back before getting to such a stage where the exact notion could be no less than etched and flung right back where he least needed whenever any sort of attempt was made to disregard it in the slightest. So sure, all good.

‘Course he had to make such an issue about it... ‘Hey, look at this big, really un-not-noticeable color of blue on my head, you see it? Well lookit! Here, get outta here for no reason other than the fact that you’d brought that up yesterday!’

A challenge it was, a challenge indeed, one accepted, one to soon be busted with such an inference he somehow hadn’t caught to yet. Yeah, sure, maybe memory was a little wonky in that twenty or something minutes since those two waltzed on in to the crowd right as he got to the main bit of the show... nah. Closer to ten minutes, no way that was ‘just a vision’, just a buncha colors in a perfectly aligned coordination to tell him specifically that there’d be a whole two people being met later on.

Was it really the greatest idea abandoning him for it? Sure, why not. Overreaction? Eh, he could’ve done a little better, before putting that bandana back on, especially, but nonetheless the same regardment. Come to think of it, very little had actually been done since first seeing him at all, and with a new, _almost_ irreplaceable headwear to play around with, all to be questioned was why that chunk of cloth hadn’t been so much stuffed inside the opposite jester hat and tossed to the corner so bedhead fever could kill while he went giggling in the corner or whatever.

At least he’d brought his own along before anything could be done about it. Not like Dee’d be one to do something like that, even to tag along with such experienced company, at that, but it was for the better, anyway. Last he remembered, just looking at the forest was enough to get him shaking, and any closer to that trapdoor and he’d probably wet himself. Yeah... maybe he could go back there again, even if alone.

Dark, still. Couldn’t wait, the trees decided, couldn’t have the courtesy to let just a little rest point or patch of sunlight any nearer than the opposite edge he’d entered the endless maze from, deep, and... something mysterious, whatever. All to keep company lay in the pats and occasional squishes of the ground beneath, one time dry to signal a perfection in the craft of walking perfectly forward, another for notice that mud had decided to step forward in attempt to do absolutely nothing while he pondered how much longer it’d even take until he could reasonably get back to let loose a lie.

One step... bored. Two steps, completely unaltered whatsoever, no difference from its predecessor aside from distance since last recalled. But three, oh, there was something so unparticular it could rival and smash even the toughest lashes of crumbs of dirt it unintentionally ventured upon. Twice, even, loose bits of crumbled mud and pebbles stood no chance against their last sight before being let an eternal rest maybe four or something paces forward, a good smack letting loose their final memories in inattentive docility.

Bam!—went another, smack flew a larger speck of grey amongst the fade of floor, and his shoe didn’t care for destruction wreaked upon their merest displacement of the ground. To the larger gap of trees, they flew, to a stump, they collided, yet none’s nonexistent efforts of wind and consequential sound could even threaten the playful beast above, his rather unmenacing grin and colorful hat beaming down all’s last hopes of remaining paired with the ground for eternity by seconds.

Oh, and there went all excitement again. Whoops, get walking again, not like it wasn’t already that nothing had changed.

Once... quiet. His head spun. All around, trees unnoticeably daunted the silent landscape of looming shadows and foliage, somewhere so far off, a tap signifying one familiar reminder—any closer and he’d recognize it as something he’d be... tolerable with more so than its polarized counterpart, as much as he’d hate to admit the situation. Maybe a chirp that was. Quiet and distant, the sole whisper of nature against ears careless to all but some dumb luck he’d found in another patch of crunchy leaves reached out in an icy shiver.

Closer, closer, maybe a few steps more and that’d do it... and it came again. One crunch down, pause, and another set of uncountability past ten. Lack of reminder, his mind repeatedly brought up, and whoops, there were the inevitable footsteps he knew would have come one time or another, each and every day like probably promised. He hadn’t been paying attention, to tell the truth, but it’d be nicer to tell him there was no such thing as disregard in his mind. Just zoning out was all.

Momentarily, he saw it just as well as the dull colors of an emulated moon above the environment—he sat, perfectly unstill, as expected, feet kicking the bench in just the perfect pattern in conjunction with the rest of his form, swaying, bobbing in the nonexistent breeze of so many mixed colors adorning the tiny habitat of that miniscule glade. Every time his hair fluttered against his personalized wheezes of nature, the leaves of all trees beside, apples and all, toppled toward, be it noticeable, imaginary, or fictitious in general.

Behind that lonesome bush keeping him safe from another spurt of energetic greeting and excitement in explaining how to spell each others’ names, really, it wasn’t all too important to regard any but the nearing repetition of the same sort as minutes prior, yet he still didn’t care one bit. A little surprise, still found to be, despite what he’d just told himself right before somehow stumbling across the exact same location for what seemed like the eighth day in a row. Some company, soon to become, but certainly not one he’d ever appreciate himself.

Soon it surely came—towering from a kneeled perspective, retrospectively and adequately silent in not just voice to the forest’s aspects. That more-than-apparent hair, even more so than the similar boy’s one just a few steps ahead of her, so bright and flashy, he could probably stare and get mesmerized by it for hours on end without noticing she hadn’t moved one bit. Maybe a little intrusive, even, unsimilar to his not due to length, but... presence. Something like that, like her wear or something, it didn’t belong in the trees, he didn’t know what he was saying.

“Hi Susie!” he called with an eager wave to the figure barely three seconds away.

She glanced to the side opposite himself, just into the makeshift path created a few times prior for that other blue boy. Come to think of it, really, it was so much harder to remember everything done with him than even his name... quite a feat of unremarkableness, and honestly quite incredible to even himself, at that.

“Hello.”

Neither moved. Wind curved to and by past some bushes, rustling clear his and all emptiness’ position in the patch’s outskirts.

“What’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” She sighed softly and took maybe four steps ahead, somewhat toward the side of the bench.

“You just wanted to take a look at the woods?”

A mere jolt came of her hair as it patted against her back, otherwise still. Her head turned, but she didn’t speak for moments and moments on end until he shook himself off of how enthralled he’d become at such boredom between the two. Well, for one, of course.

“I guess.”

“Oh! Me too.”

Two stares continued on against her, but she didn’t seem to care or recognize either’s existence. Rustles and pats came again, distant, instead, much farther back behind her.

“Were you busy?”

Her head took back for a few seconds. “No.”

“Oh, okay.”

Nothing more than a drought of silence, then he continued the exercise of his head and legs, shifting and kicking, as his face darted out of view in the moment past. Soon, she shook her head indiscreetly enough to conquer similar force of how quietly some mutters could be even heard, and steps reigned among the next dawn of prior silence as she started toward the other direction of the path.

Then she stopped, for some reason. Not like he’d seen her much at all, but wilderness and woods didn’t seem like her style—if anything, expectation asked her to get herself and her fragile appearance out of the dull habitat before her hair got knotted in some branch or whatever. Long as it was, it was bound, prone, even, to a wooded ambush some time or another.

“Excuse me.” She rushed back until right behind the farthest end of the bench relative himself.

“Yeah?”

She cleared her throat and peered downward, her eyes revealed to only an unnoticed onlooker with pinpointed blankness. “Have you... um...”

His head finally stopped, likely just out of quietude’s notice.

“I’ve been looking... for my friend in these woods. I haven’t seen him, though, and I was wondering if you maybe happened to notice him recently.”

“Uh huh.” His head nearly slumped. “Oh, w-wait! I meant no! Or, uh, what does he look like?”

In the next ten seconds or so, however long she’d decided to prolong her answer, his own eyes inevitably slouched themselves, obvious being their unforgiving nature in letting him retaliate so to not fall asleep. Was it really so hard letting people an answer at times, just once?

“He wears a red jacket.” It wasn’t an unknown the exact face held by Kirby at the moment, staring deep into her own pale comparison of thought-initialized dispute of command. “And his eyes are quite green.”

Another long pause signified his response, though it could’ve just been another of her futile brainstorms and none could’ve bothered to know. “No, I don’t think so. Sorry.”

One gave a shrug—his eyes couldn’t bother to tell which, the fact they’d lingered so long lay to heavy dispute in moments succeeding. Her back straightened, and she steadily continued her position relative to either them farther and farther, right until beside the twin-personality displayed among the forest’s habitants and naturality alike. Trees, grass, and narrow, winding road, her eyes shifted toward several times, likely considering their own path as they reluctantly turned so many times to the bright, colorful energy of her own hair color back where she’d been just a minute or so ago, perfectly consistent in his pattern heard by none as both other distant figures disregarded the any possibility of coming back to him once more.

Well, _one_ , at least.

“Excuse me,” she continued in her standardized plainness. “Sorry for the again interruption.

“Oh, it’s fine! What’d you need?”

Some silence... or whatever. It really was a better idea to just get going himself, but that’d take too much energy to sap his legs any more than already tired.

“Would you mind if I rested with you?”

“Sure.” Despite laying on the likely center of the bench, he still decided to slide over toward the closer end as she took her place on the opposite. Whether truly appreciated lay to be one of nature’s mysteries, given how inexpressive she’d shown her face to be in such a short span. “It’s always nice to have people to sit by. I think the company’s great.”

Her hands initially took notice and stride of the straightened position beside, still, stiff, and stable, especially to any decision to let even a smidge of force off them. Though only one could be seen, doubtless was truth that both her arms eventually grew restless of the procedure and decided to simply relax their ends’ contents on her thighs.

“I’d care to differ.”

His head halted again, legs only taking notice of the unset plan moments later. “Huh? Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, okay.”

About all could be said for his attention span with how much those two liked to dwindle around with nothing to do. Sure silence could be appreciated but jeez, those two were shoving some limits. But eh... not like they even knew he was there in the first place.

“I just find it odd how much more some appreciate their close ones than others,” she muttered indiscreetly.

“You mean like friends and stuff?” he asked, turning quickly.

“Yes.”

And perfectly stiff she remained, yet again, faces following suit in implicit conjunction, but an obvious outcast still took the bait of glancing off from the path.

“Well...” His hands rose, gesturing lightly, indistinguishably. “I just think that some people might not... y’know, uh, do as much together as they’d like to.”

“Oh.” She let a breath, softer, even, than ever shown in the past few minutes he’d seen her speak any more than her name. “I think there could be some issues with schedules and whatnot regarding that decision.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But that’s what planning’s for. You can’t really do anything together if you don’t tell them when and what and where.”

Frailly, the ground whimpered a crunch of weeds as some put their foot down. His head was quick to instruct a direction toward inevitability, though her next of countless sighs quickly took his merit of having the ability to do so.

“If they, say, could not meet up at any designated time, when their only available options could not be together... what then?”

“Oh.” His shoulders almost wanted a hunch, though a relaxation was all they managed from the slight bump they’d unnoticeably achieved. “Well, I guess I hadn’t thought about that.”

Despite her blank face already lying in sight many moments already, silence brought the only necessary consciousness back allowing to even recognize it over likely another voided state of mind. Firstly in reconsidering the view before him was that her face was so, so incredibly pale. Way more than anyone he’d ever seen before, and even he liked to call himself a lazy slouch at times. Reconsidering that, though... there was just no way...

“But I think that eventually, even if it takes weeks and weeks, times could open up for both. They’d just need to look way in advance for whenever there’s an opportunity.”

She _couldn’t_ have been even more of an indoor person than himself. Or... in-shack? In-box? Forget the wording, such a merit couldn’t be forgotten in favor of her own reminder smacked literally across her face to be the first thing seen about her. Well, from the front, at least.

“Is this from experience, you know this?”

“Oh, no! There’s plenty of time for me to spend some time with my friends. And for them too. I was just making a guess about all this.”

“Oh, okay.”

Stability in his own mind dropped as his eyelids followed in suit, the forest darkening and blurring moments leading up to his heavy blink, only for Kirby’s second arbitrary step to inflict another round of unwanted lack of drowsiness back to him. Really, it wasn’t the best place to do so, nowhere near the most comfortable against a tree stump or in the bush’s confines, but a nap’d do just fine about soon.

“Would you mind telling me their names?”

“Oh, sure! There's Marx, and he’s nice. And then there’s Gooey, and he’s nice too. And there’s Bandana Dee, too, and he’s usually with me for whatever we’re doing. But we’ve, like, never been _all_ together at once before. Except one time.”

Yeah, and it was an identical stretch calling Gooey one of their own, too. He could hardly keep his hands flailing any less than his tongue.

She didn’t budge, be it from posture or position of mouth. Opposite her end of the bench sat about the same wildness in adhering to stillness, for once, only to soon realize his head wasn’t shaking like it needed and his legs couldn’t exhaust their energy supply. With a skip in seconds, he turned from her to resume his doings, only to soon set it all on pause to return back to statue form, his head drooped.

Maybe he could’ve made the effort not to be so harsh on him, even if merely on thoughts... but eh, he stopped the kicking, so fine by him, at least. How he’d managed so long without annoyance or exhaustion in the first place, that lay never to be understood by any but him.

“Okay,” she said plainly. Her hands lifted, arms straightened, and all but her lower legs rose to display her full height, towering over the bench and diminutive species of dirt and scraps of mud lining the ground. “I guess I should be going now. Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome! I liked talking with you.”

Evident, momentarily, her hands clasped over each other just in front of her, hanging limply from her stiff arms, coated, yet probably still paler than her already whitened clothing. Almost a bow, her back may have unintentionally revealed, but it didn’t matter—a moment, another, and she was back to the pathway leading away from school, considered once, then gone, truly. Still, in that last moment before her color slid to a shroud of wooden bulk, his eyes found themselves transfixed on such a minor characteristic of her... that bright color was hard to look away from in deep greenery, after all.

A little too much, even. Getting himself focused on just hair color was one thing, but for at least fifteen or something seconds, he’d still have some explanation to provide himself before too much time’d sneak by. Oh, and speaking of, enough had probably passed already, another hour out in the lowest point of the day and he’d be stamping his hat flatter than it already was, limp atop the ground.

Steps, he got up, halting any intent of doing anything of the sort. Whoops, also time to make it out without getting spotted, else some “wrath” to soon face. Nothing bad, well-known, but the only hopes of making it by lay in bundling up behind the bush’s branches and failing supply of leaves, already transparent enough at the time. And maybe it’d be best to take that hat off, too.

Something like minutes, skeptical in stolen deprivation of sound, and his boredom could be sustained no longer. One more step, disregarded, and the crackling of foliage came to nonexistent notice to finally... see such a dreaded sight.

Why, of all times, did he have to assume such a method of escape would be alright?

“Marx?”

His call echoed without reverberation against bark and through hollow openings between, pulverizing his actual sense of ability, for once, and shattering any stillness the lifeforce around somehow lingered upon after the whole ordeal prior. Quiet, his breaths became, his mouth hung very slightly ajar at the such misdoing of himself noted, but he didn’t even bother to move.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, face about the length of his arm away. Uncoincidentally, that was about the distance the coverage of the glade’s lacking foliage stretched.

“Uh...”

And without an excuse in mind, either, despite knowing so well what he was watching. Whoops.

“Where have you been! I haven’t seen you since we were let off!”

The environment crunched once more, maybe a little subtler than last time, but he wasn’t paying attention enough to tell... what was it, five minutes ago? About that much, same old, same old, perfect stillness between both, another toppler of a problem yet to resolve the awful smile placed upon the other boy’s face. Hard enough holding a wince at how insolently he plastered many his teeth across his already shiny face... but maybe that was all needed.

His head lit up, suddenly, with a force maybe not physical, but certainly tangible if he ever knew that feeling. “That was two days ago, you passin’ years or something while we’re struggling through days?”

His arms immediately crossed, a defensive stance placed forth. “N-no! What’d make you say that?”

“That last sentence.”

Another smoosh, distanced. His head barely managed an unwilling restrainment despite him not caring in the slightest for staring forward.

“Oh... well, uh, was it really that short ago? When...” Discomfort took obvious reign over his face for reasons even more so.

“Yup.”

“Ohhhh. Okay.”

Breezes attempted to fill the bored air with something, at least a sound, beyond what already presented itself to none. Once more, it came, dropped, stuttered behind for another loop, and the procedure repeated onward, venturing forward its hope and regrets to the points of conflict faced in both sets of eyes before them, one almost shuddery, the other more indifferent than could be said for most his kind.

Lastly, an even softer one, patting and tramples so many times in such occasional spread that it would’ve seemed like just two seconds between each under weight of the topic long forgotten by the longer aching.

“What were you doing out here?”

“Huh?” He rubbed his eyes. “What? Oh, just... ‘splorin’, I guess.”

“Cool.”

Heads scratched in unison, transmission of some sort evident to both in odd contact, only for the link to break upon final notice ahead. Jolted, his hat slumped as its host stood, peered just to the side, past slight unease, and to another path of emptiness to nowhere.

“Now that we’re together, you wanna do something?”

A twitch, he saw. Of the hand, inattentively, then reflected the bush with valued, yet useless effort to sole company as his eyes locked into place, transfixed so curiously, almost to an extent of fright at the view before him solely.

“Uh, Marx?” he continued after several seconds, though a distant crunching of grass served his only reminder of what occurred.

Then it struck, nowhere the force from... that, left a moment ago in such a hurry. Eyes stuck to him, concerned, he could accurately notify himself, but whatever interest that flash had been, it was so much more than the mere squint of pupils just before him. Closer, of course, but that didn’t even matter.

“Are you okay?”

But it had to return, finally. Contemplation’s defeat, at last, and the return to actual consciousness, his mind reluctantly stepped back up to see the close height just ahead, maybe three-quarters the span his arm away, instead. To the plants, a new opposer had stepped up, but again, the only grass to mind lay at the opposite end of the empty patch.

“Yeah, yeah...” His hand raised and dropped, unsure they’d done so in the first place, even more so their intent. “Uh huh.”

Was... that really?

“Oh... I just, maybe thought you were, I dunno... feeling a little sick or something. You didn’t look too well just a second ago.”

And his opportunity was gone, regardless. Those singular steps just then, light-headed themselves, unsure where to place each others’ feet in any sort of attempt to leave behind the littlest of presence, but his eyes could only focus on that one figure so far before him, even still, despite not catching a half-decent glance of it.

Almost too much for him to keep his breath steady, and soon enough, Kirby couldn’t help but stand even closer by, mentioning something about a rest, something else about tiring or whatever. He felt... just fine, didn’t he? That was all too real, but nevermind that a moment, why did he feel the need to keep such an exaggerated breath himself, and to another extent, why was a necessitation kept to guide him away?

He... could move perfectly well on his own, couldn’t he? Out to the bench already beneath him, if he wanted, but no way assistance in that category was needed.

“Marx!” he cried out futilely, standing with hands on his shoulders, but he didn’t feel the spirit to call him out on it.

Back then... a colorful glimpse, maybe even more so than her, a peek of shades, and so unbelievably remarkable for a forest, a peer into obscurity not faulted by natural cause. Deepness comparable only to what lay as pitch-black condition, a gaze of steel stolen into his own being, planted in the darkness, but something even more so than that, than the odd covering to line it all.

Past the shakes and trembly whispers, soon crying that he couldn’t bother to comprehend anymore with a feeling shared himself, he could visualize it clearer than any of the murkiness pelting his eyes with ever-growing intensity of watery darkness, even if not saying much in that. Through a whimper and hung tear of both, a bright color flashed by, again and again reminding him of that one day, back so long ago when thought just a myth.

To complete the set, a wonderfully altered tone of bright and dark conjoined together to form a single entity behind barrages of naturality and shade, an oddly designed, yet still almost stylish red jacket.


	7. Chill Thrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lil' sparky duo turns into a waterslide.
> 
> Meanwhile, on an opposite side of the wooden world, it's really chilly.

He stared, he sat; he shifted, he soon drooped his hat. He felled a drop, then another, so many his face could so deeply delve in, sigh a last, and drown before it all burned him. He didn’t care for the seat—not the roughness, not the bailing balance—nor the such blinding light trying to cram itself into him, nor the half-care of where he bothered to find himself. As for the other... he hardly needed to mind, even.

He didn’t need a bother with the futile scorching of mind, the succulent mist of something so desperately familiar he somehow couldn’t pinpoint. It all, he just shivered for each as he glimpsed into the sole, brightest contrast of the past, so bright it could brandish meteors over the sun, rise an apocalypse from some alternate universe and reign havoc over the unmirrored, and he’d be off dallying about how boring, how lifeless the heart of the trees were.

After all... they hardly knew each other.

“Marx! Please!” he cried, tears brimming a reflection across nothing. “I—I... I’m sorry! I’m... sorry...”

With the beat of a stump, the ground met a trespasser—a tear flashed pink. The world wobbled, right along with him, a memory he could’ve savored any other time, had he not fogged himself so much. He stowed a sob, futilely crashed down alongside the tremor open of his mouth, then forgot it, a plank rising from the blurriness of the few tufts that dared plant themselves in the glade.

Then he cried, right alongside the others, but the defenselessness was only feigned—his shoes were too dense to notice much more than each bump of his own frigidness. He swayed, and his followers listened, like each petal and leaf could understand him by a tremble alone. Rather than accept the trait or his own scarce memory of heat before, he could take residence with some... else, just something, or whatever like that, taste it with the mere tremble of his mouth guided, and soon he followed along, swaying, cheering as one of the palest forces to reckon amongst the spattering of two boys drowning themselves.

But... he _did_ after all. Somewhere, somehow, when some clones of vision stretched all the way across, he could tell.

Just forgetting about him for a moment—there _was_ a sight to behold, wasn’t there? He was shaking so hard, he could hardly notice how warm the palms of his shoulders relaxed so arrogantly as, but he was fine. He was all fine. Look back, a moment, and he’d be all fine...

Wouldn’t he?

The air itself returned, ripped a hole straight from the depths of some complex to remind him of the lingering face, but it only muttered some vague resemblance of a syllable. There was a returned heartbeat, and the trees, looming as they always knew they could, only sighed their relief at the sudden crack in time as his eye gazed the light between the canopy.

“I d-do...” he whispered, finally. “There.”

The wind sucked so heavily it seemed he’d lost his own sense of breath. By an instant, it’d reformed its shallow embodiment before him, bright, colorful, and utterly shattered by the treelight, but whatever there, it was a face of nothing comprehensible of the joyous occasion it’d always found itself locked into.

“Marx! Do you hear me? Please, you... are you okay? Is there _anything_ you need from me? I’ll get you anything, I promise! Just tell me what you need!”

It twisted its leg so many times before the breeze swished back by, just barely recalling the true self of the certainly ready face. Maybe... a little scant, but there was something hovering there, awaiting his presence with a mystifying face of far multitasking.

“Uh...” he choked to himself in a lullaby.

“Please!” A flash exploded by, his head adjusting to the new rotation ordered in the pant of an air so cavernous. “You’ll be okay—uh, I’ll stick right here for you! Just tell me what you need...”

Just... a word. Surely, he wasn’t alone. He really didn’t need anything because _surely_ , he wasn’t alone. So bright, and blank, somewhere bursting with vigor so energetic and revived, he could see it all so well, like a crook of his head became necessary, yet too distant to manage for such a glimpse. Behind a string of syllables far too sparky to compare even a sound to one coherent, truly, there was something, standing and sitting simultaneously with the blink of all shadows—a great pale, a sobby song droned over and over, so much it could only have been an illusion to explain how much forth he set—but he wasn’t bothering with any of it.

Already, he was leaning, crying his hardest to a lifeforce that couldn’t feign interest, but he couldn’t tell which tears belonged to who anymore. A jittery jaw, a faint, distorted gape at the entire world before, dark and deep more than anything, all he ever saw was red all over.

“K-Kirby?”

For a second, his only company waved to view, nodded, and gulped, gasping as hard as the entire audience before wiping it all clear from his eye.

“Tell me something,” he croaked, so faint and hoarse he must’ve been lapping his own tears among the attempt at articulateness, “okay?”

Kirby sighed into a whimper, trembling into a shape of steel torn beyond recollection. He spelled a deep breath as he doubtlessly stared his only witness to a sudden stiffness, but even he wasn’t alone from motions of the mere sight.

The log tilted some more, clawing splinters farther, deeper into the pocketed puddle atop it, and finally a wild pink stumbled between him and the whole road ahead. The gap shifted a few times, and in the silence he gawked with his mouth. There must’ve been a tremor in the means of breath, but whether wood or mud, he’d never regain the opportunity to consider.

“T-tell... me,” he repeated to himself.

His jumble reformed, somehow less distinct than what breath he had left, and he grasped the grain, struggling one limb after another to heap some hope of new words. All, equal in side and futility, only gaped at his request, and he fell inside, the hollowness recalling a cold eye and a glare to sap up whenever he was ready for a smile.

“Marx...”

He nearly choked on his own spit, but whether too bothered or distant to care to, he’d leave for another time. The whole dome of dirt and nothing instantly hushed, but for which sound, he hardly knew. In a sugaring of power, so sluggish in approach and ability, his neck churned with a bestowed heat so unknown he almost truly suffocated, and finally, he turned off and stared, somewhere to the deep cosmos of the only star around.

“Tell me—” He sniffled, tried another word, then succumbed to the seconds of floods. “And tell me what you really mean here, okay?”

Kirby nodded behind his watery robe.

“Did... did you really see him out there?”

His quiver shied in all a moment—for once his face became distinct enough to make an eyeball off it—and all joined to a great jumble of stares. The trees, himself, and the grass, they sheltered in seated silence, scooped by the great terror of the least bothered aura of a log and its encounter. Everyone, tinted by touch of soil, succumbed to mastery of stillness and inseparability from stone, among it all standing the faces of a vibrant hat and fluttery hair.

In the skies of belittled bits, a burning pledge, all he could’ve ever done was flinched, yet he broke his head, so many times bobbed down until the first breath spoke before him.

“Of course,” Kirby stuttered after some equal jittering of his jaw. “I... I was right there for it.”

Doubly so, they switched faces—like he could see how pathetic and puny his own was, seated on the yet unpetrified onlooker of mud and the stars—then, before even letting himself a chance to readjust the sheer lopsidedness of his own sunken hat, he raised a palm, right alongside another he couldn’t bother understanding, and cried all over again. Though with how stupidly close his only company decided to shove his face, he didn’t even bother past a few tilted fingers.

Something about silence, stares, and eggs, he kept rambling on to no one. A scatter before the trees, a lush, drowned stripe—he had no idea what he was trying anymore—and what last coherent voice he had left soon succumbed to the brew he boiled, the eye of a flood reigning and raining endlessly. He tried one last reach, somewhere, where he could still faintly make out a burst of that awful pale pink, but it hurt too much to stay, and he leaned until his back pouted on its own, and then some.

“You weren’t there!” He almost stretched a knee, only to recall how much a little baby he already made himself to be. “You weren’t even _looking_!”

“Y-yes I was! You just didn’t see it!”

He could’ve assured his own sense of sight nothing remotely close to that was the case, but he’d already failed the shield of his palm long before. The air stung, so much like a faint wisp of wrongful glee, but it was the breeze, of all things, to drink the most. It was a great, horribly cheery sound, so bright and so viciously fluttery in its mere temperature...

Yet... they hardly knew each other.

“I... s-saw it...” he sobbed to himself, spelunking even further down into the deep trove of his bunched legs and peering silence. “Right there... it...”

He didn’t even care for permission, or for the whole second he’d ever known those somehow sparkly eyes—he just cried for comfort, and by some dumb miracle he got it. Whether torturous, so relentlessly soggy, or just heavy to hold, he didn’t even try to understand; with another sob to the cavern he took refuge in, a wonderful warmth shifted in his seat, then roped an eternal flame over his back, so unfazed and vigorously calm, among the doubtlessly creeped face it belonged to, that he only felt one last need, despite what he told himself.

“I’m s-sorry, Marx...”

He was the best pillow he could’ve cried into—he was the worst substitute for nothingness to calm himself—yet still, they were just faces so hopelessly undeserved.

* * *

Tiers of chore, a crushing splat, the familiar desert echoed its reform to play, recoiling, all the way. A palm felt first the scurry of droplets, smashing its way into openness from beneath the ruins of its still shattering coater, only to as soon writhe in deprivation of the desperate warmth it required so long already. Without much a careful gleam of eye to the speck of discomfort, he followed suit to the instant shutting for the half-degree it’d matter, scraped a heel along in presumed, yet mistuned intent, and spun a trail of mudded footprints behind as he readjusted reception of the temperature.

A little on the safe side, he’d have much rather preferred. A little... regretful, fleeing for the cause, but nonetheless superb in his lacking explanation when the door would finally shut. Just safe, was all he was being. Nothing touchy, nothing... disdainful, or rebellious, just keeping the hold of his head safe, among how much the unbreakable chill surged with its untattered gaze of steel, his trove of wonders secure. So much so, it almost warped in a faint midst of heat to mind, but he knew better than to stay on the topic of shame.

And he’d have sure liked to believe all the belittled silence he kept assuring himself with—in truth, none seemed much on the point of unbelievability—but in all a second of glory, a second of one-sided glory he stole far too late, in the hardest sight of twin spires, a towering tan before eyes so unequally fazed, he approached the unsuspecting boy too near, panted inwardly, and shivered, all the way down.

“Sorry,” he whimpered instantly.

The other figure just rubbed his eye and sat, a barely ripened statue in limbs alone. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the ruckus of scratching to his forward, hard, almost exaggerated whispers of breath for a futile seeking, spoiled shudders—he just kept holding his face, barely alive on his patch of dirt—but upon the eternity’s demise, any part of his indiscernible confusion would’ve spread everything.

“Uh... sorry,” the boy said, staring upward.

He nodded like a dumb bird for all half a moment before recalling the situation and jutting an elbow forward. It only shook, trembling stiff before even letting his hand free, and he was left to watch in desperate hoping for any sort of assistance for the poor kid he’d just bumped down.

Without much more than an inward grunt, the boy built upward, all the way till meeting with maximum stature in the most pristine and primitive line of communication they could’ve managed. His face flew down—another following—but for all the moment, he could only look back on the features still fogging some vague familiarity.

“I should...” the boy mumbled, splaying a palm beside his ear before locking downward again.

For a silence, it was about as longable as expectable; he twiddled a fist, awaiting the hour to fall so words of departure could be spoken—for gravity to suddenly shift from sleet to sunrise, lift its cube eye to the sky, and flip itself. In all shudders, he just shied around the cracks and slabs donned over the ground, darting an eye from left, to right, to all the way back until he could see some shoes so contrasted against anything else around they were a spiraling turmoil in themselves.

He breathed a sudden reminder to himself, and twitched, hardly, speaking all a word to and back from the barely recognizable face before scorching off. Just... a short encounter, easy stuff. He could tell all he ever wanted, glancing off into the lush abyss of polar perfectionism either side but down. A shorter street side, dark, gloomy as could be described for the chill of the best blanket of clouds he could have ever wished for, then, averting his eye through some chillier sparks frosting his air, there was somehow a distance so much darker, deeper, almost more deceptive, an indefinable aura of... cold. Maybe tears, too—any deeper and he just be nurturing his own thirst.

With a pocket flaunting its gluttony in all lacking definition of frigidness, he just hunched his jacket, fluttered his head in its crazed silence above the rest of his shivery self, and took a long, feigned nap to himself, and only himself, as he’d have no other way. If to merely blindfold himself, he couldn’t bother considering the consequences—the path was straight enough, anyway—as he was just about ready to crouch flat and pinch himself until he believed he was a pillow. To protect himself from the visionary frost, he’d have liked to consider, among a trail of footsteps thumping a rhythm he could almost hum to, or some great chunks of snow, sphering the show to a massive snowman to chill him forever and after. How so, he had all the world he chose to contemplate, but the heartbeat struck too soon to make much a mental note of it.

He shook, though he’d been so much already he didn’t know how much it must’ve stood out. Ahead, to wherever his new sense of direction had tapped his shoulder, stood exactly the beady eyes he’d hardly heard from.

“Hey.” The boy scratched his head, twiddling a thumb around the lining of his sweater pocket. “Uh... sorry to bother you.”

“It’s f-fine.”

He stared, tearing a shiver in half with the snap and intensity of all an icicle. In tandem, their hairs fell, and pockets brimmed with bagginesses the same.

“Oh, if you needed to go, that’s fine. I...”

“No, I’m good.”

Their pouches twiddled in perfect coordination.

“You...” The boy panted, felt his forehead, then scrunched his knuckles just over his waist. “I was just wondering if... since I was, uh...”

The note held, each second spared another shiver marking until he couldn’t tell one finger from another without suscepting them all to the outer ravages of early winter. Once, twice, then thrice, he picked a scrap of lint from a pocket, juggled it around, and finished with an intentional shake, though still, he couldn’t make much a sound off the boy’s original word.

“I was...” He chuckled, so frailly a breeze nearly overtook it. “...maybe a little lost. And—I know this is a big thing to ask of you, but I was just wondering if you could maybe lend me some directions. Not to my place, of course, but just...”

He nodded, despite knowing just how well it was quite likely the least useful bit for anyone, turning his eye absentmindedly as a bubble, feasting on color, chills, paleness to the point he could hear the fledgling’s cry in some distant globe of the past.

“Sure.” He sipped a hint of the air, then dozed for another second. “I c-could give you some...”

The boy nodded back, checked over his shoulder, then squirmed, as equally so as shivers could bestow upon them both.

“The school would be nice.” The boy let his thumbs hang out his pockets, twiddling, tapping all his attire so smooth and easy, only for both his eyes, hands, fingers, and all, to take one bigger taste of chill and culminate a shudder. “Uh—just to find my way. I can figure it out from there.”

Long and worn, he held a fist to level with his head, nodding it, tracing all his misintent with the scrunch of knuckles. The boy just stared for all two moments, then returned his own bobbing of head, to one, to both—in moments he himself was transfixed over the motion.

He turned back, eyeing him as long and easy as he could pretend among the looming of an environment so unforgivingly unfamiliar. “Just down there, I think,” he said, guiding a hand off in no particular direction. “I... it’s actually on my way home.”

The boy hummed a regard. “Oh, thanks.”

Sent a mumble, he faked a wave of his hand once more, then stiffened, parting his eyes all around in whatever directions they could only feel. Dizzy, dizzier, he could’ve assured himself that was stumbling enveloping him, but a plank of wood was all seated in the farthest, obscurest corner as he trekked forward, onward past whatever word he’d forgotten to speak of.

Then, he could’ve only hoped it was nothing following—doubtless, that was a promise, but he felt about ready to curl into a snowman himself, scrunch up into a little bucket, and wave a mitten a few months too early. He stopped all a second for ensurement, even if not in his legs, listening for the silence of his own heartbeat to tremble just once more, alone, one more time with its own giddy wishes of whatnot, but it was nothing that at all. Faint, yet hollow and thuddy as the deserted street side beside, the steps duplicated.

First was an attempt to simply outpace him, but it burned so much to even think about it he just sagged and tore a dam loose. His face lowered. It was coming, nearer, croaking by the second with a knot in his throat he was too faint to admit over something. Just a little sparky helmet over the cloudlight, all it was, so simple, friendly, welcoming in that blank stare he’d come to know and accept, yet nothing seemed right enough to hold anything forward, be it speed or breath.

Approaching the first gutter in the line, he nearly tripped over the fall of the sidewalk’s plateau, stubbing a toe first, scurrying against balance next—soon, admitted right through the barrier of stumbling and panicking, he gasped, stalking still for a whole moment over each crack and rim of the concrete as it crept too far. As much as it lurked his very breath in his final moments, he at least had a first tear to hold onto in the fleeting silence.

Instead of whatever he might’ve had planned otherwise, his hands just limped, all the way down. If even out at all, he’d rather have avoided entirely, but someone certainly wasn’t having any of his pleads to himself.

“You okay?”

It was a silencing gaze before him, a prickling shell, a good hissing to himself he’d have never known if he wasn’t so paralyzed by the boy’s nervousness. A sheer havoc, ripped through for forests, deserts, whatnot else littered the land of their two stares, and at last, he felt back with a half-second of horror.

The boy picked his hand without a word, lent some strength, and in a blink, they were both upright.

“You’re the banana peel kid, aren’t you?”

He hadn’t even finished readjusting his only shoulders before the boy had sputtered it. Still, he could hardly feel where his mind had gone upon his trip, but nonetheless he mistook a glimpse back over a ray of a year, once, for the past few days of nothing while a hard-earned stare adventured forward, somewhere, then again, for whatever else he could recall—eating, peeling... picking—and with the grain of sunrise to rely on, he suddenly remembered the stupidest occasion.

“Yeah.” He dropped his eyes, held the sides of his stomach, and shivered. “It’s Chilly.”

Both mumbled, hummed. For a second, he just stared into the deep dark of a floaty trance, high in the clouds, looking back on _why_ it had to have been the one, sole time he’d tried the new slipping strategy when his luck perfected, when it seemed none but who he’d wanted lay around, when one but what he’d expected lurked, reviewed, and remembered him for just... a single, dumb accident. It was all just for an experiment, all just to see...

They passed on the forest path—his trailer riding his sweater just the tightest bit more as he paced by. They struck by, beside an instant, clamoring for the wish he was sure neither drooped face, pair of bagged hands, and sunken posture was all too eager for; he just kept up a tad more. Blue and sheer, gray, pale, green and gloomy, he warped off with a baggy following, a tasteless hunger in his mouth, but somewhere, the path must’ve ended.

“Pretty cold out,” the boy whispered all the way to him.

He nodded. A hand almost escaped his pocket.

“Yeah... it’s nice we both have stuff to keep us...”

They shifted elbows, exchanged frost auras, and drifted apart again. In their revitalized pallors, the moment was only a predicament to fall over—the perfect opportunity to just let him the truth—but by chills and calls of the cold, he knew it was anything otherwise. He walked, he followed, both stood without consequence or regard. More cracks and cavities along the floor, more than he even could’ve recognized anywhere past, he just stared, quietly, past a park lining, past the lushest green, past all the world of worried wilderness lining their sidewalk.

The boy huffed among the random breeze, shudders less than discreet after his merest sound. “You’re the first person I’ve really seen around in a while.”

A hum approved without him.

“Y’know, I haven’t... really seen anyone else around, since we were let off.”

A same hum, discontented by the mere mention, suddenly quelled, so chilled it turned back all its temperature on him for its own comfort.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“I... I wouldn’t know about you, of course, but...”

The wind paled even further, tapping with all its joy, might, or what whatnot it was attempting in an illusion of dampness. Perfect—he’d have only wished—but the grooves and the pebbles couldn’t have any of it, tattering the last silence with recalls of audience and, more predominantly, attention, with clamps by step, thuds by breath, and quiet by remembrance. Braces scattered about in the air of a whirl, but the crying gust approaching was so lulling he couldn’t concentrate any on the familiar thumps of ash pavement.

“Nevermind.”

He stopped, inexplicably. Another step and a half and he’d have more than likely tripped again; he was just thankful for whatever lurker had decided to speak his safety. More so, a faint charcoal pioneering the first new world after contemplation’s wrath startled him, gave so lifelessly in pebbles and indescribably chilling stone—a rock fossil cavern without the cavity.

“Hey, uh, thanks. I’ll find my way from here.”

With a last, fallen pant, he sparked his eye to the buildings, beads, and bumbling face carrying view. Almost, he felt like throwing up, freezing to an ice sculpture, and simply collapsing simultaneously, but with a face so level and, in a sense he was beyond understanding, reassuring, he held it all in for the sake of politeness.

“Y-yeah...”

A second to stare, they spared each other the spread of any more frost, waved however absentmindedly they could concur, and gazed a cold-earned heap into the void of booming clouds. He really should’ve been indifferent, even comforted by his favorite skies, gloomed sparkers, yet somehow, somewhere, he just fell, flat on his back as perfectly as he could imagine it to be from an outsider.

Only, it was hardly much a stranger looking back into him one last time, if at all a figure he was willing to comprehend. Big, bold expressionlessness, awkward arms, and an unfathomably desirable sweater—they just stared in their regular positions.

“Chilly, was it?”

He nodded, almost nauseated by the blur he kept facing.

The boy dropped his own head, raised a hand an instant out his pocket, then sighed to himself. “I’m Bandana Dee. It... it was nice to meet you.”

Whatever the culprit, he had no idea what possibilities, blazes, and bumbles his bottomless trove kept bestowing over him. Half a sigh, then a sign—he waved back—he tripped, stumbled around the joint of his wrists, desperate for something he could latch onto, but his balance was unbreakable. Tiptoeing, training his very fingers for the journey ahead, he had no idea the difficulty of twiddling through his pocket one more time, past the vexed fluffball and nauseating spare change.

The dawning light, his favorite time of the cold air culminated together for him only, but for once, he just wasn’t feeling anything. His stomach was alright, his hands freed from their curse, he was hardly cold, he shivered just like he wanted, but the novel drizzle, tempting beyond belief, fell underground before him. One more time, he’d have maybe looked around, froze, and wondered where he even was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it only took half as long as I'd expected. Nothing much else to say about that—just haven't had the time to get updates done for this.
> 
> I was trying something different with Marx's perspective here rather than last chapter's over-exaggeration on everything's part, and honestly, I can't say which even I myself like more. On one hand, it's surprisingly enjoyable finding just the words to craft his own spoofed perspective on the universe, but on the other, just trying something more "serious" with this one was more engaging to me—at least, when going back in the editing phase. I might switch back on whatever comes next, whenever it comes next, but honestly, I'm still mostly indecisive on my little self-predicament.
> 
> Oh, and I made a [Discord](https://discord.gg/Z4yF5thyeU), too. Maybe come join, chat with me, if you want. Or don't. ~~ooooh ahhh 🌀🌀 you want to come talk to me🌀⌚ oooh you also want to tell me the letter "w" for no reason~~


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